Where the Wild Things Are
by smileanddoitanyway
Summary: College!AU. Castiel and Dean meet in a no name faraway bar and have wild, completely uninhibited sex. Which is fine, except the usually stoic and severe Castiel has to remember each and every horrifying detail every day because Dean is his new professor.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel slowly returned to consciousness, his inner clock alerting him to the sun beginning to creep over the horizon. The motel room was still dark, but the early morning light was enough to see the wreck they had reduced it to. It was a good thing-Dan? Derek? Dean!- Dean had decided to put his credit card up for collateral instead of Cas'.

Cas didn't bother looking over at the other side of the bed. He eased the covers back and quietly began to gather his clothing. He snorted a light laugh when he discovered his tie still knotted to the headboard. An electric shock of _want_ bolted down his spine as he rubbed the red mark around his wrist.

The tie came undone with a little resistance, but the pile of blankets didn't move. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief that this one was a heavy sleeper. He didn't do the morning after dance, preferring to slip away while his conquests were passed out.

There was a mirror that hung above a writing desk pushed up against the wall. Castiel scrutinized his mussed appearance. Most of his outfit from the night before was back in place; black slacks, white button down, blue tie, but no matter where he looked, his boxers could not be found. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair in frustration. It didn't make much of a difference, he knew, since the black shock always looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, whether he had or not. There were bags under his ice blue eyes, but when presented with the choice between sleep and some of the dirtiest sex he'd ever had, well…he could sleep when he was dead. He did need to get out of here soon, though. His hook up was sure to wake up any minute.

Cas had almost abandoned his underwear to the motel gods in sacrifice for what he'd done to the room when a flash from last night made him grin.

They had stumbled into the room, drunk and horny, connected from lips to knees. When they had to pull away for air, Castiel gripped Dean's face, taking a moment to appreciate his beauty. His green eyes were large, and currently full of lust. The broad chest Cas wanted to lick for days was heaving, as though Dean had run at a full sprint. His full lips were red and swollen from Castiel sucking and biting them. He returned to that task, their tongues battling for dominance. The struggle drew low moans and whispers from deep in Dean's chest.

Not to be outdone, Dean nipped at Castiel's tongue, dropping to his neck, light bites making Cas moan. Dean shoved him against an already cracked wall and ripped his tie and shirt away before moving his sinful mouth to Cas' already sensitized nipple. Castiel panted heavily, running his blunt nails through the other man's short, sandy hair. The vibrations from Dean's groan of pleasure ran straight from his nipple to his already aching hard on. Castiel's head thumped against the wall as he arched into Dean's mouth. Dean smiled into Cas' skin, biting and licking stomach, chest, shoulders in a random pattern Castiel couldn't predict. He ground their hips together in an unsuccessful attempt to get Dean to move the fuck on!

When Dean couldn't, or wouldn't, take the hint, Cas grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back across the room against the door to the bathroom. Dean smirked at the lust-darkened eyes glaring at him in the half-light of the room. "You were doing that on purpose," Castiel accused, his voice low and deep. Dean's smirk merely widened. Cas snarled, slamming the tease against the door harder. A sharp, wooden crack echoed in the small space. The door gave a little under the assault. Cas hadn't meant to break anything, but the blonde man's answering moan had elicited a banging on the paper thin wall from their unfortunate neighbor, so Cas figured he didn't mind.

Castiel worked the taller man's jacket off, followed quickly by his t-shirt. Cas ran his fingertips over the well defined muscles bared before him. Dean grabbed his wrists and pulled Cas against him, working to maintain control. Cas leaned his body against Dean's, allowing him to direct for now. Dean's hold on Castiel's wrists relaxed when the smaller man again sought friction by working their hips together.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hollered when Cas twisted out of his hold and grabbed his hips, then held them against the door, away from his own. He was stronger than his slender frame let on.

"You tease me, I'm going to tease you," Castiel purred, his voice coated in gravel. Dean whimpered and tried to arch his hips toward the blue eyed man, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. "No," gravel turned to growl as the grip on Dean's hips tightened and Castiel forced them back against the bathroom door again. Another whimper escaped Dean's cocksucking lips, but this one had been dipped in more arousal than frustration. "You kinky son of a bitch. You like someone taking control," Cas huffed into Dean's ear. He was careful to make sure the only point of contact was his hands on Dean's hips. Their chests and stomachs were mere centimeters apart, but were not touching.

"Bullshit," Dean growled back, grabbing Castiel's shoulders. Cas had enough time to wonder what the hell the other man was going to do before Dean's well muscled leg went between his and he was thrown around. There was a louder cracking sound when Castiel's back hit the wooden panel of the door before the door gave way and they were both thrown into the small restroom.

Dean landed on the thinner man, forcing a small "oof" out of him. "I am always in control," he informed Cas. Castiel felt his eyes widen at the warning in the words, but the hot _needneedneed_ running through his bloodstream kept him from caring how they got to the finish line, as long as they got there.

They were again connected from the lips down as Dean attacked Castiel's mouth. Dean's tongue did not seek permission, but simply bullied its way past lips and teeth. Cas responded in kind, making the kiss messy and dirty. He gripped the hair at the nape of Dean's neck, tugging and directing the kiss as much as he could. Dean whimpered and growled, unable to control his reactions to the fierceness of Castiel's return assault.

In retaliation, Dean situated his knees between the other's instead of lying flat on him. Bracing his weight on his elbows on either side of Cas' head, he pulled away from the kiss and gave a knowing leer. "Wha-?" was all Castiel could articulate before Dean's hips ground into his. It was vicious and sudden and hot as fuck. His vision went white as his mind was overtaken by nothing but the sensation of pressure and friction against his dick that had been too hard for too long.

He stamped down the orgasm that rushed him, determined to make Dean pay. It took all of his concentration to stave off the perfect oblivion being promised, but he somehow managed.

The shock of the cold linoleum of the bathroom floor on his ass brought him back to the moment. Dean had somehow managed to get rid of Castiel's pants and was working on his boxers. Cas bent his legs to help with the underwear removal. A shout ripped its way from Castiel's throat when Dean leaned over his throbbing cock and let his breath ghost along its length. More banging from the frustrated neighbor drew Dean's green eyed gaze away from Castiel's blue one. "Looks like we're going to have to be more quiet," Cas observed distantly.

"Fuck. That," Dean replied. Castiel had never really been turned on by foul language, but every curse from that square jaw and full lips ratcheted Cas' arousal up another impossible level. "I'll just have to gag you."

Cas ' jaw dropped and he almost came right then.

Dean thrust the underwear into Cas' open mouth. "What the fuck?" Cas tried to say around the fabric. It came out a garbled mess, only partially resembling speech. He went to pull out the makeshift gag, disgust suddenly warring with arousal.

Dean grabbed Cas' wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. With his other hand, he gripped Cas' flagging erection and started working it back to full mast. "Jesus, Cas, it's so fucking hot. Leave it in, please. You can be as loud as you want now. I bet you're a screamer, aren't you? A filthy fucking screamer, wanting everyone to know what you're doing. Is that was you want? The people next door call the cops, they bust in here. They see me balls deep in your ass, fucking you into the floor, using your own underwear as a gag?" Cas' eyes rolled into the back of his head as Dean's dirty talk fanned the flames of his arousal.

Cas was brought out of his memory by a light cough. Damn, he thought. Time to dance. He looked over at the bed, but the blankets hadn't moved. Puzzled, he scanned the room looking for the cougher. The broken door had been leaning in a faulty approximation of where it belonged when Cas had woken. Now it hung wide open, Dean twirling Castiel's underpants by their waistband around one long digit. He was bare chested, jeans hanging loose around his hips. They were unbuttoned. "You didn't turn the light on," Cas said in place of 'hello'.

"Didn't want to wake you," Dean shrugged. Castiel guessed they'd had the same plan to leave before the other woke up. Dean's eyes darted to the cotton shorts he was holding. "Orange?" The smirk stretched his lips and Cas had another flashback of them stretched even further around his dick. Said organ gave an interested twitch.

Cas ignored it. "Laundry day," he finally replied. They stood in awkward silence, both attempting to construct a new escape route.

"Look, last night was fun," Dean started. "We should go out again sometime." He was clearly trying not to be the typical dick, but Castiel knew the one night stand script. He was supposed to say "Yeah absolutely." Write down his number. Maybe take Dean's. Then they'd each pray the other would never call.

"I don't think so," he responded bluntly. He didn't do scripts well. Dean stiffened at the tone. "Last night was fun," he agreed, trying to soothe Dean's ego, realizing too late how that sounded. "But, we both know it was just a one-time thing, right?" Dean looked a little wary, but nodded. "We just wanted a good time, we had it, no need to exchange phone numbers, or even last names. This was hot, but I don't do repeat performances."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't known how to handle this particular one nighter. He wasn't usually so…wild. But his brother Sam had been sick of seeing him moping around after he'd found out Lisa was not only cheating on him, but had gotten pregnant by another dude and told him to just go crazy to try and reset. He grinned cheekily, feeling more at ease now that he knew this guy wasn't going to be trying to hook up again. "Well then I'll just have to hang on to these to remember you by."

He folded up the pumpkin colored boxers and stuffed them in his back pocket. Castiel's jaw just hung open in shock. "You can't keep my underwear!" he finally spluttered. Dean finished pulling on his t-shirt, cocking one eyebrow.

He sauntered up to Castiel, invading his personal space. Cas didn't flinch, or react at all, when Dean reached past him to grab his jacket off the desk behind him. "Watch me," he crooned into the dark-haired man's ear and bit the lobe. Castiel fought a shudder and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Dean was gone and he heard the rumbling of an engine fading into the distance.

It was two days since the acrobatics he'd participated in with Dean, and Castiel was still sore. It felt like he'd run fifteen miles with a stick in his ass doing push-ups and back flips the whole way. He grinned every time he remembered exactly which ache went with which activity. "You're disgusting," Gabriel groaned, flopping down in the seat next to Castiel.

"How do you mean?" Cas replied. He had a flash of panic that somehow his diminutive brother knew all of the things he had done, and had done to him, the other night. He wouldn't put it past the little fucker.

"Why in the hell would you sign up for and 8 am history course? You're on, what?, your third degree, and you still haven't figured out that morning classes freaking suck?"

"Fourth, and you don't have to take the same classes I do, Gabe," Cas said airily, a silent wave of relief flowing through him. It was the first day of the new semester, and he didn't want to spend it fighting off Gabriel's lewd questions and comments.

"Sure I do," Gabriel said, imitating Castiel's tone. "How else am I going to cheat off of you?" Castiel rolled his eyes. Gabriel just grinned. "So, I hear this new professor is hot!" Gabriel elbowed Cas in the ribs. "Think he bats for your team?"

Castiel shushed his shameless sibling, glancing around the mostly empty room. It was already 7:50, but there were only three other people in the lecture hall. It was a room set up to hold upwards of 150 students, and luckily Castiel and Gabriel were the only ones towards the front. "I'd like to keep my private life private, you ass," he hissed.

"Like anyone cares, Cassie." Gabe waved his hand dismissively, but thankfully continued at a softer volume. "But seriously, would you ever do the teacher? You know, 'I'll do anything for an A'." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Cas chuckled. "That is a violation of the ethics code, Gabriel. I believe the perception that one can get a better grade in exchange for intercourse is widely exaggerated."

"Could be. But if this guy is as fuckable as everyone says he is, I am not opposed to joining your team as a switch hitter." Cas snorted again at his brother's turn of phrase, then had to duck his head into his arms as Gabriel stood up and started gyrating behind the long table that served as a desk.

Castiel kept his head on the table, stifling the laughter bubbling out of him. He heard the door to the hall shut at exactly 8 am. "Switch hitter it is." Gabe let out a low whistle.

"Alright everyone, welcome to History of America at War. If you don't know what that means, you're probably in the wrong room so please leave. We will all mock you after you exit, but only for a minute. Promise." He knew that voice. Castiel tensed, but kept his head down, sending a quick prayer to whoever would listen that he was simply going quietly crazy by inserting _that voice_ into his everyday life. "This is an upper level major requirement, so I expect everyone in here to be mature-" 'I'm in trouble' Gabe muttered. Me too, Castiel thought. "I hate the university's student portal, so any paperwork you need, I will have. Here are the syllabi. I hope by this point you all know how to read. Just take a look at the grading system and the important dates. The rest of it is stuff you've been seeing on syllabi your entire life. Can one of you gentlemen hand these out?"

They voice stopped directly in front of Castiel. He pretended he didn't hear the question, sending another prayer that Gabriel would volunteer. God must have been busy, or else he's a sick fuck. Gabriel didn't volunteer. "I would love to hand those out, professor, but my dick has a question I just can't answer right now. Maybe you could help me after class."

The class roared with laughter. That was definitely more than three people. Castiel hadn't realized more people had come in. He felt nauseated, the taste of bile heavy on his tongue. It wasn't nearly as pleasant as the taste of Dean's-no! Nononononono.

"You're not really my type, Mr…?"

"Novak. Gabriel Novak."

"Well Gabriel Novak, I would hate for you to admit your erection and then have no one here notice, so we'll spare you the judgment and just let you stay seated." More surprised laughter. Gabriel even joined in. "I do need these to get handed out though. Do you mind?" Castiel felt the warmth of _that hand_ resting on his shoulder.

Castiel couldn't form a response. He just shook his head, careful to keep it lowered, and held out his hand for the stack of papers. "You ok?" the professor asked, concern coloring his tone. But Castiel had heard him say that before. Had heard that and so much more.

"Yeah," his voice broke on that one syllable. He sounded wrecked. The hand on his shoulder tightened, but Castiel couldn't tell if it was in surprise or disgust or both. Probably both. He winced.

"Castiel?" Oh, his name in that mouth. He wondered distantly what the rest of the class was seeing in this exchange. Were they seeing orange underwear and pink tongues and purple bruises and red rope burns from a blue tie that still hadn't completely faded? Could they see sweat shining on golden skin or pupils blown wide with need and lust in jade green eyes?

This is why Castiel drove two towns over and went to an old, small, secluded bar when he wanted to pick someone up. That's why he felt safe enough to use his real name. He did NOT see his hook ups again. He put the encounters in his spank bank for personal withdrawals, replaying the fun parts whenever he needed to. When he'd exhausted his behind-the-eyes movies, he went out again to start the whole process over. Single serving friends. Single serving fucks, that is what he dealt in. He didn't need people in his life to know that side of him.

Well, now he really was well and truly fucked. He let out the breath he'd forgotten he was holding. Castiel straightened his back and gathered as much of his wits as he could. He raised his eyes to meet the professor's. The man's hand was still on his shoulder. He took a deep breath.

"Hello Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

"Castiel?" Dean asked quietly. The name tasted differently in the harsh light of the lecture hall. He watched the other man's face change from terror white to scarlet in mere seconds. The blush from embarrassment wasn't so different from the red of exertion. Dean's lips quirked in a silent smile. This could be fun!

A breath of air forced its way through Cas' lips, followed quickly by a steadying inhale. "Hello Dean." That deep pitch was not just the result of sex roughened vocal chords, Dean noted. His cock twitched briefly.

"It's good to see you again, Cas." Dean's response was loud enough for the entire class to hear. He glanced up through the rows of students, their faces ranging from disappointment to confusion to envy. He smirked at them all. "He's an old friend," he explained jovially. Castiel glared at him through his eyelashes, but still refused to lift his head. Dean gave Cas' shoulder a squeeze before returning to the front of the room.

"You're friends?" He heard Gabriel hiss.

"Shut up," came the growled reply.

Dean giggled to himself. Oh yes, this was definitely going to be fun. "I'm just going to leave these papers on the front table. Grab one on your way out!" With that order in place, he launched into the first lesson.

The 75 minutes passed quickly for the professor, but he could tell Castiel was barely making it. Dean pulled out all of his old tricks. He dropped his pen at least eight times, rolled up his long sleeves above his elbows, tapped his lips every time a question was asked, and pointedly ignored the dark haired man in the first row.

There was a moment of frustration when Dean finally chanced a look and the blue eyes were everywhere but on him. It only took a second for the ire to evaporate because while Cas was carefully studying the exit sign above the doorway, he rubbed absently at the wrist Dean knew had been tied to the headboard. The grin that knowledge brought to his face really couldn't be attributed to Native American spearheads, but he pretended anyway.

"Heads up, there will be a quiz on chapters 1 and 5 next class, so since we only made it through half of 5 it is up to you to complete the reading! See you in two days!" Dean dismissed the class, but watched Castiel closely. His short friend was talking his ear off it looked like, and was hindering the intended flight from the room. Dean's amusement at Castiel's discomfort was bordering on sadistic now.

His attention was pulled from his bickering students by a loud, "Professor Winchester?" Dean whirled around at the familiar voice behind him.

"Jo!" he nearly hollered. A genuine smile broke across his features. The petite blonde grinned back before jumping into Dean's waiting arms. "What are you doing here?" he asked after he spun her around a few times.

"It's your first day of school! I haven't missed one yet," Joanna Beth replied smugly.

"Were you in the class?" Dean hadn't noticed her and immediately felt bad. Torturing a nearly perfect stranger shouldn't distract him so much.

"Yep. Right in the middle. You were too busy teasing a helpless dork to notice your bestest friend though, and now my feelings are hurt." Jo pouted, but Dean knew she was mocking him.

He rolled his eyes and scanned the classroom, but it was now empty. "I'll make it up to you tonight. My last class is out at 7:45 and I can meet you at the Roadhouse by 8:30. I will buy all your drinks while you regale me with stories about your hairbrained road trip. Sound good?"

"You are going to regret that offer, Winchester!" Jo cackled. Dean winced because he knew she was right. She may be little, but the girl could drink any trucker under the table and still walk a straight line. Jo grinned wickedly before giving Dean a kiss on the cheek and heading towards the door.

He grabbed his papers before following her out, slapping her ass before bolting towards his office. "I can still beat you down, asshole!" she yelled down the hall after him. Dean just flashed his dimples before ducking into his office.

After a second of thought, he locked the door.

His smart ass grin fell when he saw Castiel sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Hey, Cas…tiel," he added the last part at the warning look shot his way. He eased into the office chair the college had supplied for him. It sucked.

"Hello, Professor." Castiel replied coolly. "Who was that?" The ocean colored eyes flicked briefly to the closed door. Dean's followed, even though he knew what Cas was asking.

"She's just an old friend," he shrugged, not sure how to play this situation yet.

"Like me?" The tone was neutral, but Dean could have drowned in the words unspoken.

"Not quite," he answered carefully. "We've known each other literally our entire lives. Our dads were like brothers, so we grew up together. She and my brother are the only family I have left." Castiel's eyes narrowed, obviously trying to understand what the warning tone in Dean's voice meant.

By the headshake, Dean assumed Cas hadn't come up with anything, so he put on his professor hat. "What can I help you with this morning, Mr…?" Dean's gut twisted a little. They had to break the no-last-name rule, he supposed. But it still felt like violating some kind of code.

"Novak. Gabriel is my brother." The last was said through pursed lips.

Dean couldn't help the bark of laughter. "Well, Mr. Novak, I apologize for that." Castiel bobbed his head briefly in agreement. "I have no class for another hour and a half, so what can I do for you?" Dean folded his arms on the desk and leaned forward. The damn chair was already making his back hurt.

"The door is locked?" Castiel tilted his head, puzzlement furrowing his brow.

"I-yeah. Sorry. Hiding from Jo." Dean stood up and started cross the office. Castiel stood and blocked his path before he made it around his desk. "What…what are you doing?" Dean wasn't sure he could have been understood, because suddenly his lips were busy pressing against Castiel's.

The kiss burned its way down and his body began aching with need. Dean grabbed narrow hips and pulled them flush together. Castiel licked the seam of Dean's lips, and Dean welcomed the intrusion. Their tongues slid together wetly, licking and tasting. Dean held tight to Cas' hips and started rubbing their lower bodies together. The metal on metal sound of their belt buckles clashing together brought his upstairs brain up to speed with his downstairs brain, though, and he pulled the smaller man away. "What are you doing?" he repeated, panting.

"A repeat performance," came the dark rumble in reply.

The two men stared at each other for several seconds. Dean's mind flew through the million reasons this was a bad idea, and quickly decided none of them mattered more than getting to replicate their time at the motel. Maybe even come up with new stuff.

Dean eyed his office hungrily, already making plans. He brought his attention back to the person making his demented fantasies happen. "Ok," he huffed, and dove back into the kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Everyone has been so supportive, I wanted to get this chapter out sooner rather than later. Fair warning: It is absolute smut, no plot value whatsoever. Let me know if you like it!**

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><p>Castiel's intention had been to wait outside Dean's office after class, explain to him that the whole situation was wildly inappropriate and that he'd be dropping the class before the end of the day. Those thoughts quickly flew out of his head when he watched Dean slap the pretty blonde <em>tramp<em> on her ass. Cas quickly bolted inside the office before Dean noticed him, jealousy clawing at his gut.

His possessive nature was yet another item on the laundry list of reasons for his hump them and dump them attitude. Can't scare them off if they're never seen again.

The first time Castiel pressed his lips to Dean's, it had been almost involuntary. His need to claim the professor overrode the more rational, and usually more predominant, part of him. Dean's hesitance spurred the uncivilized aspects of Castiel's personality to the forefront. The deep rumble of a response that he offered Dean's nervous question was all he could articulate.

When Dean didn't immediately concede, Cas flinched internally with the all too familiar feeling of rejection. The barely coherent "Ok" washed those fears away. Castiel returned Dean's kiss with equal hunger. "Clothes. Off." His voice already sounded fucking wrecked.

Dean nodded, his hands flying to his own shirt and quickly working the buttons free. Cas' shirt was already on the ground. He'd never been so grateful for a simple polo before. Dean was only halfway through his buttons, but stopped at Castiel's snarl. Dean's eyes widened as Cas advanced across the suddenly cramped office. The brunette grabbed Dean's shirtfront in both hands and pulled. Buttons pinged against the walls and cabinets, while the shirt suffered a rip at the collar.

Dean stared for a moment while Cas stepped back and wondered if he'd gone too far. In the motel Dean had liked the roughness, but maybe without that anonymity things were different. "Jesus fucking Christ, Castiel," Dean groaned. It was Cas' turn to stare wide eyed as Dean jumped across the room. He was a green eyed, golden skinned force of nature that crushed Cas against the cinderblock wall. "You are so _fucking_ hot, Cas. I want to bend you over the desk and fuck you until you beg me to stop. Twice." Dean slotted one of his legs between the other's and rutted against Cas' hip while his dirty mouth ran away with him. Cas couldn't think of anything hotter. He bucked against Dean's thigh, his cock trying its hardest to rub a hole through his jeans.

He wasn't completely submissive, though, and had his own plans for his professor. "I never beg," he whispered into Dean's ear. He bit the shell just this side of too hard.

"Three times," Dean promised. The challenge in his voice made Cas even harder. He almost howled at the pressure.

Dean got almost no warning prior to being shoved bodily away. Cas didn't let him get far. He'd only taken a couple steps to rebalance before Castiel's arm wound its way around his waist and he was pulled back against the thinner man. Cas walked them back toward the desk, lips and hands roaming over as much of Dean's exposed skin as he could reach. The hidden strength had Dean nearly coming in his pants.

When Dean's ass hit the edge of the desk, he started to sit. "No." Cas pulled him back up by his shoulders, his right hand gripping tight enough to leave a red mark on Dean's skin. Dean moaned at the indelicate handling. Castiel let go of Dean to swipe his arm across the top of the work surface. Forms and folders flew through the air. Slightly chapped lips ghosted across Dean's neck. "Confetti. It's a parade." Castiel cried out at the sharp hair pull his comment received.

His hands flew to Dean's belt the same time Dean's flew to his. There was a flurry of hands at their waistbands while they nipped and sucked each other's mouths. Castiel's belt gave way first, and the sound of his descending zipper was loud in the small space. "Fuck!" he shouted as Dean pulled down Cas' jeans and boxers to his thighs with one hand while fisting his cock with the other. Dean spun him around (again!), so Cas was now leaning against the desk. "_Fuck_!" Cas shouted louder when Dean dropped like a stone to his knees.

"You're going to like this," Dean said with Castiel's dick barely brushing his lips. Cas groaned at the sight of those big green eyes staring up at him, the head of his cock sliding into that wet heat. Dean swirled his tongue around the sensitive head and watched Castiel's eyes close and his head tip back. His long fingers were clenched tightly around the edge of Dean's desk. Dean smirked at the white knuckles.

"God, your mouth is fucking made for sucking dick! Fuck!" Cas let go of the desk with one hand to grip the base of his penis. He didn't want to come just from a little game of "just the tip".

Dean grabbed Cas' hips, making sure his fingertips dug into the other man's ass cheeks. Cas prayed he'd leave bruises. Then he watched as the entirety of his member disappeared down Dean's throat. He cut off a choked sob at the feeling of Dean's fucking _tonsils_ rubbing against just past the flared head. The professor hummed his victory, sending more shocks up to Castiel's balls. He swallowed twice before leaning back and pulling in a deep breath through his nose. Dean didn't give Cas much time to recover before impaling his throat again.

"Dean! Gotta stop. I'm gonna come!"

Dean slurped his way back, releasing Castiel with a wet pop. "Should I count that as one?" he rasped.

"Fuck you." Cas couldn't catch his breath. Dean just smiled wickedly before taking Castiel back into his mouth and bobbing his head in an unforgiving rhythm. A high pitched keening erupted from Cas as he came. Dean sucked down every drop, continuing until Cas went soft. He licked his way from hip to neck, relishing the taste of salty sweat and spunk on his tongue.

"One." Cas jerked at the bite on his neck.

"Fine. But now it's your turn," Castiel countered. His hands were heavy and uncoordinated, but he managed to undo Dean's ridiculous AC/DC belt buckle. "What is this?" Cas looked up to meet Dean's eyes after he undid the button fly. Dean looked down in confusion. He'd never had that particular question before.

He flushed red briefly, catching a glimpse of the orange fabric peeking from the undone denim. "I said I wanted to remember you," he teased, meeting Castiel's gaze. There was almost no blue left, his pupils were so dialated.

"Did you even fucking wash them?" Cas asked breathlessly.

"Which answer would be hotter?" Castiel couldn't even consider answering. He pushed Dean backwards into the chair visitors would occupy whenever they came to Dean's office. "You going to blow me in the guest chair, Cas?" Those slender hands were already working Dean's pants down and off.

"Better," Cas grunted back. He eased the orange underwear just behind Dean's balls. Dean leaned back in the chair heavily and spread his legs as far as he could so Cas could work.

"Oh yeah, Cas. Look at me when you suck me." Castiel obliged. He flicked his tongue at the precome already pearling at Dean's slit. He licked a stripe from balls to tip and grinned at the shudder it pulled from the warm body before him. "Fuck, Cas. More. Please more."

Dean let out a sharp bark as Cas took him in. "One," Cas said around Dean's cock. He was already sucking before Dean could refute.

Moans poured from Dean's mouth as Cas moved his head, tongue swirling around the main vein, his hand working what couldn't fit in his mouth. He made sure not to swallow too often, so his hand was covered in saliva. He worked his hand down to cup Dean's testicles, eliciting a string of profanity. Dean slumped further in the chair, sliding his ass to the edge. Cas kept working his throat around his lover while continuing his hand's journey past testicles to Dean's fluttering hole. "Ah, shit!" Dean shouted when Cas' spit-coated finger circled the muscle. "Yesyesyes. Cas, do it." Castiel allowed the barest tip of his finger to enter Dean and caught it on the edge of the ring. He continued to play at Dean's entrance and suck him down. "Cas I want your fingers inside me. It's so hot. So fucking hot." But Castiel refused to enter Dean fully, preferring to hear him slowly come undone.

Dean eventually couldn't form coherent words, and the sounds falling from his lips were little more than broken syllables and "Cas" over and over again. Castiel continued to watch him, fully counting this as begging more than threefold. He felt Dean's thighs begin to shake, and his testicles draw up. With Dean's orgasm steaming at him like a freight train, Castiel gave in to his pleas. With his forefinger he breached Dean's entrance, and pressed hard against his prostate.

Castiel worried briefly that the scream would bring someone running, but discarded the idea to pull off of Dean. Tears pricked green eyes as Cas worked Dean's cock, come splattering against his chest. "Oh Jesus, oh holy fuck, I'm going to die," Dean panted. He tried to scowl at Castiel's laugh, but none of his facial muscles seemed to be working.

"Our hour and a half is almost up, Professor Winchester," Castiel hummed against Dean's thigh.

"No way," Dean replied, his lungs still refusing to cooperate. But the watch on his wrist confirmed that he was due in the classroom in five minutes. "Stay here. Don't go…anywhere."

Cas simply raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to wait on you, Professor." Dean cast a suspicious look at the man still kneeling between his legs. "You're going to have to work for this next time." Castiel explained. "I did make you beg. More than three times." He ran a hand over his stomach and licked Dean's cooling come off his fingers. "I _want_ you to make me beg."

Dean almost came again watching Castiel lick his essence from his fingers. "You can bet on that." It came out as a whisper. He'd meant to sound ominous, but when he watched Castiel pull his shirt on without cleaning up, that filthy part of him screamed its joy.

The Winchester grabbed Castiel's wrist when he walked by. Cas looked down, watched as Dean pushed aside the unbuttoned sleeve. Dean checked to make sure those blue, blue eyes were watching him and licked the red mark left from their first encounter. "Soon," he mumbled against the delicate skin. Then he bit down, hard.

"It better be," Castiel breathed in reply.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're late," Jo griped as soon as Dean sat down. He stuck his tongue out at her and took a long pull off the beer in front of her. "Hey! Mine!"

"I'm paying for it, so that makes it mine." Dean held Jo at arm's length when she tried to grab the bottle from him, protests falling on deaf ears when he drained it. "Ah! Refreshing. Worth the six bucks I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything," the blonde informed him sweetly. Dean didn't like it when Jo was nice. It never meant anything good for him. "You owe that guy over there. He bought it for me." Dean looked down the bar to see a nine hundred pound line backer glaring daggers at him. "And you know what accepting a drink means, Dean. Hey!" Jo hollered at the human mountain. The meat head leered once he realized who was trying to catch his attention.

"Joanna Beth…" Dean warned. Nothing. Good.

"My friend here wants to do you dirty as a thank you for the drink! He likes to top, though, so I hope you're into that!" The menacing glare was back on Dean. He shot one of his own at his alleged best friend, but back pedaled quickly. The jolly pissed-off giant was advancing with murder in his eyes.

"You are such a bitch," Dean threw at Jo. She just laughed. There wasn't a lot of open space in the bar, so Dean backed into a table after only a couple steps. Instead of running, however, he went into a defensive crouch and gripped one of the wooden barstools tightly. "She was joking. I don't want any trouble."

Those piggy eyes stayed trained on Dean, despite his diplomatic attempts. "You think it's funny to say you want to fuck me, faggot?" The ground under Dean's feet was actually shaking with the force of the other man's footsteps. "All of you twinks just so desperate for any chance to flaunt your disgusting ways." The line backer made a harsh sound in the back of his throat. Dean couldn't move out of the way fast enough and ended up with a face full of spit.

Shock morphed quickly into rage. Dean wasn't known for his patience, but his temper was nearly legendary. A red haze descended over his vision as he wiped his face clean on the bottom of his shirt. "You shouldn't have done that," Dean muttered.

"What's that, fairy?" Blood flew from the lip Dean split with his first punch. He ducked the answering fist and swung the stool still in his grip. It connected with a wet crunch against the other man's arm. The big man's uninjured hand came up to grip the bone that had ripped its way through his bicep.

Dean smirked at the pained howl. "I said, you shouldn't have done that," he repeated in a yell. "You'd better go get that looked at, you son of a bitch." Dean turned his back on his assailant and rejoined Jo at the bar. "Bitch," he hissed at her.

"I knew you could handle yourself. And he's a dick," Jo said unapologetically, handing him a new beer.

"This from another man/monster hybrid?" Dean asked.

"No, from my mom." Jo nodded to the tanned brunette behind the bar who was currently mixing another group's drinks. Dean held the bottle up in a salute. Ellen nodded back briefly. She was looking damn good, despite her being almost twenty five years Dean's senior. He hummed appreciatively. "Quit skeeving on my mother!" Jo screeched.

"Quit trying to get my ass kicked."

Jo glared at him for a second before managing to look contrite. "Look, I'm sorry. I won't do that again."

"Tonight," Dean huffed. He was still a little mad, but put his arm around Jo's shoulders and squeezed anyway. She wouldn't be her if she wasn't a loud-mouthed pain in the ass. "So how was the roadtrip?" he asked after they'd nursed their drinks for a little while.

"Not done yet. I was just stopping through to see your first class and say hey to Mom. I'm back on the road tomorrow to see the world's biggest ball of twine!" Her voice took on a really bad impression of a Southern twang. Dean rolled his eyes. He wasn't surprised, but he'd kind of hoped Jo was home for good. She was wildly independent and always wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else, which was why she'd gone on a road trip by herself a week after she and Dean had graduated college.

That was a year and a half ago. She still called him at least once a week, usually more, but it wasn't the same. Jo had been his friend since the first day of kindergarten, and he missed her. "I freaking miss you, you know," he told her, punching her shoulder softly.

"Of course you do," she grinned back and elbowed him in the ribs. He smiled at her response. They weren't really into emotional displays, so he knew what she really meant was 'I miss you too.' He was just grateful she didn't call him out on being such a girl. "How's Sam?" she asked, carefully not looking at him.

Dean tensed. He hadn't spoken to his brother since Sam told him to get laid after the Lisa fuck up. That had been months ago when Dean had gone to visit. Sam had only seen him because Dean had threatened to kill him, not caring about the dangerous looks he'd gotten. He'd only been in southern California for a few days, but Sam had gotten tired of Dean's bad attitude. Even though he'd taken his younger sibling's advice, Dean still slammed the door on his way out.

Things were not smooth sailing with the Winchesters.

A wave of guilt crashed over him for not putting in more effort with Sam, but clearly almost raising the kid didn't warrant more than a cursory phone call every couple of months. "Last I talked to him he was doing better."

"Good," Jo nodded. "He still working on his degree?" This was dangerous ground for Dean, and Jo knew it.

"You would know better than me," he gritted back.

Jo flinched. "You know?"

"You've called me from the payphone. I know the number."

"I forgot about that…" Jo mumbled. She'd gone to visit Sam at the California Substance Abuse Treatment Facility and State Prison. With her just wandering the U.S., it seemed cruel to avoid visiting someone she considered family. Dean knew that. "He's been moved from Level IV to Level III housing. And he's almost done with his Bachelor's. He's waiting on word about getting his record expunged so he can be a lawyer, Dean. He's trying." The plaintive tone in her voice cut at Dean.

"Look, Jo…I have to go. Class in the morning." Dean slid off the seat. He could feel Jo trying to catch his eyes, but he kept his head down. "This should cover it." He threw a few crumpled twenties on the bar, even though Ellen never charged them for anything. Even with sadness and guilt and, yeah, a little bit of anger clawing at him, he still felt the need to help Jo any way he could. The money could get her a few hundred miles in gas at least.

"Dean-" but her protest was cut short at the shake of his head.

"I know, Jo. I do. There's just too much shit that he and I are buried in. He's an addict. I tried to help him. I called him every day, every hour, when he was at the bottom. I protected him from his dealers when he couldn't pay, I bailed him out of jail, I got him the best attorney I could when Luc tried to pin him for Ruby's murder. He's lucky his only charges ended up being felony possession and DUI, not homicide. And now, he can't bother to call me or take my calls." His eyes were not tearing up.

"He's embarrassed, Bean." Her soft tone coupled with Sam's stupid name for him from when he was too young to pronounce 'Dean' forced him out of the bar and onto the street. He pulled out his phone and thumbed through his contacts, frantically searching.

_"We just wanted a good time, we had it, no need to exchange phone numbers, or even last names." _came floating through all the high emotions soaking Dean's brain. Castiel's words carried an ironic bite now that they were student and teacher. He knew Cas still wanted a good time, they knew each other's last names. But the phone numbers were still private, secret.

Dean growled into the night, frustration making his footsteps jerky. He didn't want to think about Sam, rotting in prison, the best case scenario him being released in another eight to ten years. What he did want was blue eyes, black hair, and a reason to ignore the pulls on his heart. Sam didn't want him. Jo didn't want him. His own father didn't want him once he knew about Dean's…preferences.

Cas wanted him.

The thought rattled around his head as he climbed in his car. The soft black leather was familiar, comforting. He could easily find that phone number. It would be in the college's system. It wouldn't take any time to drive to the school, get on his computer, find the number and call.

He nodded decisively, then smiled at the purr of the engine. His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He glanced at the screen, then pressed ignore when he saw Jo's face on the caller ID. He would call her tomorrow before she left, apologize for running out, give her a hug before she drove away.

Dean's heart clenched at the visual. His foot pressed harder against the accelerator. It was true that everyone left him once something else caught their attention. He knew his time with Castiel was limited at best. But he'd be damned straight to hell if he wasn't going to make Cas fucking remember him long after he'd gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel was a professional student. He had already gotten two bachelor's' degrees and one masters, but still felt there was more a university could offer him. So, gaining a second masters only made sense. However, being a student was not a lucrative position. Castiel believed the knowledge gained through higher education was worth the scant financial gain.

At least, that was what he had on a loop in his mind while his maniac of a brother ran all over their apartment, a whirlwind of cologne, clothes, candy, and attitude. "You cannot sit at home all night, alone, on the first night of the semester!" Gabriel shouted as he raced past Castiel's open bedroom door on his way to the bathroom. "Everyone is going out! There are going to be more parties tonight than any other time. Well…until Halloween. And then there's Fall break…oh! and the Christmas parties! Mistletoe…wait, what was I saying to you?"

Cas groaned and left his desk to stand in the doorway to the bathroom. "You were just telling me to have a good night while you go out and make a fool of yourself."

Gabriel stopped fixing his hair just long enough to glare. "You, Castiel Novak, are the most boring human being on the face of the Earth. I don't even know how we're related."

Castiel snorted as he conjured up images of what exactly was not boring about him. "That's not true," he said gravely.

"Please. What have you ever done that could ever be misinterpreted for fun."

"Others find reading enjoyable." Gabriel looked vaguely horrified. "I play chess, a rather stimulating game." The horror grew. "I also fuck our history professor into the bathroom floors of pay by the hour motels and suck his dick in his office between classes."

Surprise, disbelief, and finally amusement flitted across the other Novak's face. "Cas, that is some twisted shit up there in your scary big brain, but you almost got me." Gabriel focused on a point above his brother's head for a moment, gaze unfocused. "That would be hot, though." He put the finishing touches on his hair, which in Castiel's opinion didn't look any different that when he'd started, pushed past Cas and grabbed his keys. "Don't wait up for me," he winked and shut the door behind him.

Cas felt fairly devious about deceiving Gabriel with the truth. He knew Gabe would never believe him capable of seducing anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as Professor Winchester. He did his best impression of an evil laugh. It dissolved quickly into his regular laugh once the ridiculousness hit him. He continued to chuckle lightly as he reentered his bedroom, planning to read ahead even though nothing was truly assigned as of yet.

_The History of War in America_ had just been opened when a knock sounded at the front door of the apartment. Castiel glanced at his watch, noticing with some surprise it was already one o'clock. He had been reading textbooks for several hours. "Are you really too drunk to unlock the door?" he yelled, assuming his hedonist brother hadn't been able to find a warm bed. He opened the door without bothering to look through the peephole.

"You are a home invasion waiting to happen," came a voice that was decidedly not Gabriel.

"Professor Winchester!" The dark haired man stood rooted to the spot. How did Dean know where he lived? Who did he ask? Clearly he had to do some research in order to find this address. Castiel was torn between being flattered and being really, _really_, creeped out. "How did you know where I live?"

At Dean's smile he decided to go with flattered. "I realized I didn't have your phone number, and how am I supposed to make you beg with no way to get in touch?" His voice dropped an octave at 'beg' and Cas' heart sped up.

"This is a house call, not a phone call," Castiel observed. He heard his throat click when he swallowed hard. Dean immediately focused on those slightly chapped lips.

"I looked you up in the university's system. Your address was right there next to the number, so I took it upon myself to check out the safety of your neighborhood." He leaned in to capture Cas' mouth in a searing kiss. They made out in the doorway for a few seconds before Castiel pulled away.

"How fortuitous. It would appear there is a prowler." Dean immediately looked over his shoulder, not seeing anything but the dark parking lot behind him.

"Where?" he asked sharply. Dean did not want to get into another fight tonight. His shoulder was sore from swinging the stool earlier.

"He's currently standing on my welcome mat." The green eyed man scowled at the joke.

"You're not funny," he scolded, but his expression softened at Castiel's belly laugh. Dean didn't tell him, but the richness of the sound was freaking…adorable.

Dean shook his head to get rid of those thoughts and launched himself against the slighter man. Cas grunted, but allowed himself to be pushed back against the ratty couch occupying the living room. Using a booted foot, Dean kicked the door shut and began shucking his jacket and shirt. "Presumptuous," Castiel admonished. The reprimand was undermined a little when he followed Dean's lead and began undressing as well.

Dean didn't bother to answer. Already completely naked, he knelt down on the floor by the couch and licked up Castiel's side from hip to shoulder. Goosebumps erupted all over Castiel's body and he shuddered. He worked even faster to pull off his _stupid drawstring sweatpants that were knotted just a little too tight_. When Dean blew a stream of warm air across Cas' freed erection, Cas almost sobbed.

Dean pulled the sweats off of Castiel's calves and threw them in the general location of the other discarded clothing. He gripped one of Cas' ankles tightly in one hand and glanced up to meet those impossibly blue eyes.

The blue eyes closed when Dean pulled a toe into his mouth and sucked. Hard. "Oh, Dean. Yes, do that again," Castiel moaned. He never thought toe sucking would light his fire, but when Dean did it, it was. Dean grinned and bit all of Cas' toes lightly. He twirled his tongue around each one as they were drawn between his lips.

Cas braced himself against the couch with his other foot, gripped the couch cushions tightly in his sweating palms. Dean hadn't even touched his dick yet, but Castiel could feel his balls tightening already. "Stop, Dean, don't want-uh-to come yet. Stop," he managed to choke out.

"Two," Dean grinned and swiped his tongue along the bottom of Cas' foot. He barely dodged getting kicked in the face.

"Ticklish," Cas shrugged unapologetically. "And that only counts as one. This is a new round, Winchester."

Heat washed over Dean at the confidence in Castiel's voice. Plus he was a competitive bastard. "Bedroom," he ordered. The green in his eyes shrunk as his pupils dilated with want. He grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged him into the nearest room with a bed. "Yours?"

It didn't look like a room that belonged to the studious individual. The bedspread alone was Justin Bieber themed, and a karaoke machine took up most of one corner. Cas threw himself face down across the pop sensation's face and looked Dean directly in the eyes. "Nope. This is Gabriel's room." He then rose to his hands and knees, displaying himself.

Dean whined and crossed the room in three long strides. He rubbed his throbbing cock along the Cas' crack. They both moaned at the contact, their shared need spiking. Dean trailed kisses along the length of Cas' spine while grinding his hips against that fantastic ass. Castiel could feel the sharp exhalations from his chest, but no sound escaped.

"You are going to like this," Dean mumbled against his student's back. He couldn't help the surprised inhale when he felt Dean pull his cheeks apart, and a hot wetness run along his hole. "You ok?" A harsh shout flew from Castiel's mouth when Dean hummed the question against his ass.

"Yes, good. Oh God, don't fucking stop." The dark head of hair dropped, resting against the purple comforter.

"Two," Dean chuckled, licking before a protest interrupted. He continued licking and nuzzling Castiel's entrance. The guttural sounds he was able to pull from the usually stoic man made him harder than he could ever remember, counting their previous activities.

Castiel nearly howled when Dean's tongue finally breached the ring of muscle. "Do you like this, baby?" Dean moaned. He felt the body in front of him shudder, but didn't halt in his ministrations to look. "Tell me, Cas. I can't see you. You gotta let me know what feels good."

It took a few seconds before Castiel could answer. "Everything feels good. Unh-I like it when…oh shit…you do that!"

"Be more specific, or I'll have to stop," Dean warned. He massaged Cas' ass and dipped his tongue in a little further. Cas moaned brokenly. "Talk to me, Castiel." He slapped the right cheek, a red handprint appearing almost immediately.

A howl did escape Cas that time. "I like your tongue in my ass. I like it when you spank me. Oh Jesus…" Dean growled at the words.

"You like it when I spank you?" he asked softly. Castiel bobbed his head in what could be considered a yes. He was already sweating and shaking which Dean counted as a personal victory. Maybe there was more kink than he thought underneath the mostly vanilla coating. "Oh, we are going to have some fun."

"In the closet," Castiel gasped suddenly. "Gabriel has a bag. He frequents various erotic shops, though he rarely uses the merchandise he buys." The speed at which Dean stood up and ran to the closet door broke the sound barrier.

"Do you know what is in here?" Dean asked incredulously. He hadn't even seen half these things, let alone used them. No way Castiel really knew what his brother bought.

"I do." That gravel coated tenor was suspiciously neutral.

Dean felt performance anxiety suddenly grip him. Maybe it was him who was more vanilla. But no, that wouldn't play. If Castiel wanted to add a few toys to their playtime, he was definitely on board. "Looks like you're the kinky son of a bitch here, Cas," he teased. He pulled out a string of beads, the last one almost the size of a golf ball.

"We may need to work up to those," Cas admitted. He had expected Dean to fight a little bit about Gabriel's toy bag. The variety alone was intimidating.

"We better get started, then." Castiel tried, and failed, to quell a shudder of anticipation as Dean brought out Japanese silk ropes and a blindfold. "Lay back."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Anybody have any ideas for Gabriel's kinky bag? I'm planning on the next chapter being some more disgusting sexcapades, so I'm warning everyone now! **

**Please review. It seems I have become addicted to the input of my readers!**


	6. Chapter 6

He was crafty, Dean had to admit. And obviously knew how to use those baby blues. He'd been tricked. Hoodwinked. Bamboozled by that entirely false innocence Castiel exuded. "Are you comfortable?" the aforementioned pretender asked.

"It's not the position I thought I'd be in," Dean grumbled. He shot Cas his best puppy dog eyes, but all the bastard did was laugh. "The cuffs are too tight," he whined, switching tactics.

"Shut up, Dean," Castiel ordered from where he stood next to the bed. There wasn't room in that tone to argue, so he didn't. Metal handcuffs clinked against Gabriel's slatted headboard as Dean sighed and moved in a dramatic attempt to get comfortable. He was laid out on his back, arms linked to opposite corners at the head of the bed, his feet likewise occupied at the other end. At least those cuffs were padded with some kind of ridiculous fuzz. "If you don't stop moving, the rope is still an option. And I have experience with hog-tying," Castiel threatened. Dean couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but decided not to risk it and settled down. "Now, Professor Winchester, are you comfortable?"

A dangerous edge crept along the words, and Dean knew he'd never be able to hear his title and not get hard. "Really, Cas? You got a hot-for-teacher kink?" Sarcasm was a comfortable shield in uncomfortable situations. Castiel's dark smile was the only warning Dean got before a small paddle whipped out from behind the other naked man's back. "Fuck! Ow!" His cock stood up straighter, indignant Dean was sure, at the pain across his chest from the strike. "Right in the nipple!"

"We could stop," Cas suggested quietly. A blush crept across his chest and neck. As Dean watched, it continued up to stain Castiel's cheeks.

"If you stop, I swear to God I will fail you." He saw surprise flash across the slighter man's face, but pleasure quickly followed.

The bed creaked threateningly when Castiel threw himself on top of Dean's warm body and tried to smother him with his tongue. "Please don't fail me, professor. I can work harder." Cas lined his hips up with Dean's and rocked the forward. Eyes rolling back in his head, Dean tried his best to buck back to gain more friction, but the cuffs kept his legs almost completely straight, so he had nothing to brace against. He growled his frustration. "Maybe do some extra credit," Cas whispered against Dean's ear. The warm breath wasn't nearly enough sensation. "Please Professor, I'll do anything." He ground down harder.

"Fucking Christ, Cas-Mr. Novak. Why should I give you-don't stop moving-an opportunity not given to the rest of the class?" Not being able to touch the other man was making Dean's brain short circuit. The soft breaths and small licks Castiel was teasing him with only made his dick ache harder, beg for more. The rubbing it was getting was just shy of enough.

"Because the rest of the class won't do this." Dean bucked almost off the bed when Cas pulled away. He looked amused at that reaction. "Got to cover my work," he winked. The blindfold appeared in Castiel's hand, though where the tricky fucker had been keeping it was a mystery.

"That's not necessary, Mr. Novak. As your professor I need to know you aren't using unapproved resources."

"Oh, Professor. All of the resources I have in reserve are ones you have approved personally." Dean's brain completely shut down right then. The confidence conveyed was so unlike the quiet nerd from his class and the lust-driven man he'd met twice now that he couldn't process this new facet of Castiel.

The blindfold was tied with nimble fingers in seconds and Dean's world narrowed down to details. Handcuffs digging in to his wrists a little, air conditioning blowing across his chest, Cas' weight shifting the mattress, his own harsh breathing. He felt body heat radiating either side of his waist, but nothing happened. "Cas?" he ventured. Instantly his dick was enveloped in slick, tight heat. "Motherfuck!" he screamed.

Castiel grinned triumphantly at Dean's yell. He had fingered himself quietly while Dean adjusted to the sensory deprivation. His hole was already spit-slick and a little loose from getting rimmed, so to open himself up a little further was nothing a little lube and his own fingers couldn't rectify.

The quick, hard slide was a little painful, though. Dean's straining limbs and broken moans made it worth it. Cas rolled his hips slightly, keeping Dean seated inside him. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck…" Dean chanted.

They continued to rock against each other, Castiel occasionally working his hips in circles or tightening around Dean. "I want to fuck myself on your huge, hard cock," Cas announced nonchalantly.

Dean almost cried. All the small movements were hot, but still just teases. Without the visual, all he had to go on was feel, but his sense of touch had been robbed too. The only point of contact Castiel had allowed was Dean's dick in his ass. "Do it," he croaked, desperate.

Cas rose up, almost allowing Dean to escape before slamming down. He impaled himself until Dean was balls deep and pressed against his prostate. "Yes, more." Dean was breathless. On top, Cas obliged. the strokes were long and brutal, but slow. It didn't take long for him to drive himself crazy with the agonizing pace.

He leaned forward for a better angle. "Finally," Dean hissed when those hands used his chest to use for balance, and the narrow hips began bouncing fast and dirty. Castiel felt the familiar tug in his lower stomach. Dean's loud moaning interspersed with cursing meant he was getting close too.

Dean felt Cas' hands curl against his pectorals. He cried out as pleasure ran across his skin as Cas' nails dug in hard enough to bruise. He tried to match his thrusts to Cas', but he just couldn't gain leverage. Frustration, want, and 'oh God yes' sloshed around in his head, each screaming for recognition every time ass cheeks smacked against the top of his thighs.

They were silenced when his lips were claimed at the same time he felt wetness shoot across his stomach. The heat from Castiel's come seemed to almost burn him in contrast to the sensory vacuum he'd been in.

His orgasm caught him off guard and dragged his breath away. Colors and lights flared behind the blindfold while what sounded like a cannon went off. His bonds rattled ferociously against the headboard because his arms were shaking uncontrollably. "Cas!" he barked as he shot his load into the man.

Dean felt curiously off kilter when he finally came down. "This will be difficult to explain," he heard Castiel say.

"What will?" Cas looked down at the still sight-deprived Dean and couldn't keep a huff of laughter from escaping.

"You'll see," he replied. It only took a few seconds to unchain Dean, and he pushed the blindfold up and out of the way. Castiel allowed himself to be pulled down into Dean's embrace, even though it felt like they may tumble off any second.

"Dude, you have seriously fucked me up with that shit. I still don't have my equilibrium back," Dean chuckled after they'd lain still for a few minutes.

"I accept credit for your enjoyable release, however the result of your equilibrium is not my fault alone. Even confined, you come violently."

"Enjoyable," Dean muttered in disbelief before the rest of Cas' comment registered. "Huh?"Castiel rolled off of Dean's body before shoving him off the bed unceremoniously. Dean let out a squawk when he hit the floor ass-first. "Dude! Not cool!" Cas might have shrugged.

Then Dean noticed the difference between the bed pre-fuck and post-fuck. One corner of the frame was resting directly on the floor, its leg broken off and lying to one side. He reached over and grabbed the heavy piece of rectangular metal. "It would appear you owe Gabriel a new bed," Castiel deadpanned.

"Me? Bullshit. This was your idea." Dean popped up over the side of the bed into Cas' view. He was sprawled out on the most level part. "Awesome."

"Awesome?" Castiel smiled back at Dean's excitement, but felt his eyes getting heavy. He shifted his gaze to his brother's clock. It was difficult to read because it was shaped like a piece of toast.

"Yeah. We broke a metal frame. Not even at the joint, the actual frame itself. Awesome."

No wonder he was tired, Cas thought. It was almost five am. He rolled stiffly out of the bed and dragged Dean to the correct bedroom. "You have such an elegant way with words, Dean." Dean wasn't the only one who could use sarcasm.

"Hey, I am elegant as fuck."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry this chapter is so short! This event recently happened to someone whose life I mine for inspiration, and it was too funny to let go. Anyway, I want to say a very sincere thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I did not expect the support I've received, especially because this is my first fic attempt. The positivity and encouragement mean a lot to me. Honestly, thank you. **

**I will be moving the plot forward, so for the readers who want to know about Dean and Castiel's lives outside of the motel room, office, and Gabriel's room, please bear with me! There will still be shameless smut, but an increase in non-porn content is imminent. **


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel groaned at the shrill screaming of his cell phone's alarm barely an hour and a half after he and Dean had fallen asleep. He rolled away from the warm body he was tucked against to stop the noise. Dean beat him to turning off the alarm by rolling with Castiel and reaching across him, grabbing the phone off its charger and chucking it across the room. The cell phone promptly exploded against the wall. "Hey, you ass. That was mine!" Cas broke free of Dean's octopus-like embrace and sat up.

Dean mumbled something vaguely apologetic and wrapped himself around Cas' waist and legs. "Get off me!" Castiel pushed against Dean's shoulder roughly, eventually dislodging himself.

The anger evident in Castiel's tone finally filtered through Dean's sleep deprived mind. "What?" The shock of cold air from the other man's departure roused him completely.

"You destroyed my mobile phone!" Blue eyes flashed in rage, and fear skittered under Dean's skin at the power that gaze promised.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered sincerely. "I'll replace it today, I promise."

"That is not sufficient, Dean," Cas gritted out. "That phone had important contacts, pictures, messages…and they were all obliterated by your thoughtlessness." Sickness twisted Cas' stomach at the thought of all the data that was now lost to him.

"Hey man, I'll find a way to make it up to you. Come here." Cas eyed Dean balefully, and refused to move. He would not be patronized. "Please?"

Some of the anger bled out of Castiel at Dean's obvious regret, but not all of it. "No. I have a class at eight and I need to get ready."

Dean knew he was being dismissed. How had he fucked up already? He watched dark hair disappear down the hall and into the bathroom. He heard the hiss of the shower starting, the curtain sliding open, then closed. Dean racked his brain for a way to fix this.

A new phone would be easy enough, but was there any way to rescue all of Castiel's important data? Ash would know. Ash was a wicked computer genius that was kicked out of MIT for reconfiguring the entire mainframe. He was Jo's brother, or something, and if anyone could grab mutilated info from a shattered microchip, Ash could.

Dean nodded to himself, convinced this plan would work flawlessly. Now for a more immediate reconciliation. He grabbed a condom from the side table and made his way into the bathroom. The mirror was already foggy from the heat of the shower. "Cas?" he called softly, not wanting to scare him.

A sigh sounded from behind the shower curtain. "What, Dean?"

"Do you want some company?" Dean winced at the plaintive whine that mangled his question.

"If you wish. I am on a schedule," Castiel warned.

Dean pushed the curtain aside and climbed in the shower stall. "You still mad?"

Castiel turned his back and hid the grin at Dean's small voice. In truth, he wasn't truly angry anymore, but Dean could stand to learn some restraint. "What do you think?" he snarked.

Dean pressed himself against Cas, winding his arms around the shorter man's waist. "I have a friend that I think can get your stuff from your phone. I can see him later today."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I said I'd make it up to you. I meant it." Dean kissed softly along the side of Castiel's neck. Cas resisted briefly, but tilted his head to give Dean better access once the sandy haired man bit down on his shoulder. Dean's hands slid down Castiel's sides to rest in the dips of his hips. Cas moaned softly when Dean tightened his grip and licked a stripe up Castiel's neck to behind his ear.

"This will not make it up to me," Cas whispered against Dean's mouth. The professor had turned him around to better plunder his mouth with tongues and teeth.

Dean pulled back abruptly. "What do you want from me, Cas? I'll do anything to make you not mad anymore."

He regretted his words almost immediately when a sly smile crept across Cas' face. He was stronger than he looked, all wiry muscle. He spun them around so Dean's chest was pressed against the cold tile above the knobs that controlled the hot and cold water with Castiel pressed along his back. "Oh shit. I don't do this, man." Dean tried to protest.

"You and I both know that is not true. I was at that motel, Dean. It would be more accurate to say you don't do this sober." Dean couldn't think of a reasonable argument. "I know you brought a condom in here," Castiel breathed against Dean's ear, and that did not turn him on. "I am going to put it on, and then I am going to fuck you hard enough you won't be able to sit down during your lectures today, or tomorrow." That did turn him on. Damn.

He nodded his head once and handed over the condom. Castiel kissed all over Dean's neck and back. His ministrations helped Dean relax little by little. The water sluicing down Dean's toned back made for good enough lube.

Cas had just inserted a third finger in to Dean's hole when the bathroom door flew open and banged against the wall. "Shit!" Castiel yelled. He used his other hand to cover Dean's mouth, partially muffling his curses and moans.

"What the fuck did you do to my room!" Gabriel bellowed from the other side of the flimsy protection provided by the shower curtain.

"I-uh…what are you talking about?" Lying had never been Castiel's strong suit.

"There is a leg missing from the frame, come stains all over the Bieb's face, a pair of handcuffs still attached to my headboard, and one of your socks on my floor. What the fuck did you do?"

Castiel hadn't removed his fingers from inside Dean, and the stretching was definitely moving from uncomfortable to painful. He whimpered against the hand clamped across his face. Instead of pulling out, however, Castiel moved his hand slowly in and out. Dean's eyes rolled back in his head when long, thin fingers brushed his prostate.

"Oh…yeah…about that…" Nothing came to mind to explain the sight he knew had greeted his brother. He dragged his hand along Dean's sweet spot again. The man under him bucked and shuddered. "I didn't think you'd be home this early," he said lamely. It was awkward, but hot to have Gabriel so close to finding out Castiel's dirty secret.

"You didn't think I'd-? Castiel! You owe me a new bedspread and some brain bleach! You have got to stop jerking it, in my room no less! and find a real man to get your rocks off! You should know there is a problem when I am disgusted!" The bathroom door slammed shut behind Hurricane Gabe.

Cas chuckled. "Not funny," Dean whispered. Castiel ignored him before quickly replacing his fingers with his throbbing cock. He was glad he'd trained Gabriel early on not to open the curtain while Cas was in the shower, but the threat that his brother could be angry enough to do it anyway had him riding the edge.

Dean bit his fist to stay quiet. It was quick and dirty, Castiel's hips snapping sharply while Dean arched his back. The water suddenly ran cold, shocking them both into climax. "You have a problem!" Gabriel shouted through the door at Castiel's loud moan. "I'm leaving without you, pervert!"

Dean twisted the shower handles to turn off the frigid water. "I agree with your brother, Mr. Novak." He was breathless from both his orgasm and the cold.

"Don't care," Cas grinned back, good mood restored. "We do need to get to the University, though. If Gabriel's left it means I am running very behind."

"You could ride with me. I can guarantee my parking space is better than yours," Dean offered.

"That's unethical," Castiel informed him.

"I'm not selling you the space," Dean replied, confused. Student parking was overcrowded and cutthroat. It could cost more than 30 minutes searching for a space. It made sense to ride with someone who had an assigned space. They wandered back into Castiel's bedroom.

"I mean showing up together. Relations between faculty and students is a violation." Cas rummaged through his closet, noting absently he needed to do laundry.

"Just sex for grades. Don't tell anyone the dirty things you let me do to you, and we'll be fine." Cas was a little irked at Dean's flippant attitude, but a glance at the watch he'd just put on his wrist made his decision. They had ten minutes before Cas' class started, and the school was fifteen minutes away.

"You're not funny, Professor. What are you going to wear?" Dean was dressed in the jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket from the night before. It was definitely not professional attire.

"I have some stuff in my trunk, so I can make it work. Let's get moving. Can't have you ruining that perfect attendance record I know you have," Dean teased with a wink.

"Do not," Cas muttered, but his pink stained cheeks gave him away. The door to the apartment swung shut on Dean's throaty laugh.

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><p><strong>Sorry this chapter sucks, but I really wanted to move this story along. I've been lacking inspiration, so I figured the best thing to do would be to just write this situation out to get to the angstier parts. I appreciate you guys bearing with me. <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

"What lunatic agreed to give you a driver's license?" Castiel panted from the passenger seat after the Impala's impressive drift into its parking space.

"His name was Mr. Russell. I met him when I was fifteen…" Dean answered wistfully, but the grin he shot his terrified companion let him in on the joke. "And he wasn't a lunatic, just elderly. He knew I was just nervous for my test. I've got skills."

"Indeed you do, but none lie in an ability to operate a motorized vehicle safely." Sapphire eyes were wide with fear.

"We made it!"

"The tires are still smoking, Dean." The professor scoffed at his student's lack of faith.

"Get out of my baby. I would never ruin her tires like that." Castiel rolled his eyes, but complied. "Hey, wait!" Dean grabbed the other man's arm before he got out, pulling him across the seat for a quick kiss. "Have a good day, honey!" Castiel turned red at Dean's shout and the stares it garnered, but was oddly pleased.

Dean watched Castiel run into his class' building. Not even black slacks could detract from that perfect ass.

He was still chuckling to himself, digging through the Impala's trunk for at least a sport coat, when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. His head smacked solidly against the trunk lid. "Shit!"

"Indeed, Mr. Winchester," the throat clearer said flatly. Dean turned around quickly while rubbing the knot already forming on his crown.

"Ah…good morning, Mr. Adler," he greeted his superior. Not technically his boss, Zach Adler was still a well respected, as well as tenured, professor that demanded perfection from his peers. Like Dean.

"Apparently. Was that one of the Novaks I saw leaving your vehicle just a few minutes ago?" There was a smile on the older educator's face, but his beady eyes remained lifeless.

There wasn't much point in lying, Dean decided. "Yeah, it was. His brother left him behind this morning and he needed a ride, so I offered. Got the fancy parking pass and all." Adler was clearly unimpressed with his subordinate's attempt at humor. "So…yeah…" Dean finished awkwardly.

"Mr. Winchester, you are satisfied with your position at this university, yes? Then I must warn you that to the untrained eye, it appears that a rather inappropriate relationship may be forming between yourself and the youngest Novak. To the trained eye, it is obvious that you are committing an outrageous violation of your contract that is egregious enough to warrant termination."

It suddenly felt like Dean was trying to swallow ground glass. "Termination?" he whispered.

"Termination, Professor. I, personally, can see you going far in your career if you manage to keep your head down, take on evening and summer courses, tutor. But that choice remains up to you. Don't believe for a second that the higher-ups won't hear about any indiscretions that occur on campus. Just a friendly warning." Adler gave Dean a long, appraising look before turning on his heel and wandering back across the parking lot.

Adler's words were still playing on an endless loop in Dean's mind several hours later. He'd been distracted and forgetful for the two sections he taught, even dismissing the second one barely halfway through its scheduled time.

He was pissed. What he did on his own time wasn't anyone else's business, especially Adler's. Granted, not all of his activities were actually on his own time, but that was beside the point. "Fucking fuck balls," he hissed into the empty air of his office.

"Something wrong?" Calm from the deep voice in the doorway washed through Dean. Castiel leaned against the doorframe with his ankles crossed and one eyebrow cocked.

"Just…fucking Zach Adler." He knew it was an inappropriate time, but Castiel felt himself grow hard at Dean's growl of frustration. At least, until the name the professor uttered registered.

"Zach Adler? The history professor?" Dean nodded slowly, suddenly suspicious.

"Yeah. Why, you know him?"

"He's a distant cousin of mine. We don't associate much." Steel ran through Castiel's tone in an obvious warning.

Which, of course, Dean couldn't heed. "Why not?"

"Differences of opinion. What did he do to upset you?" Castiel could see Dean file away this line of questioning for later, but he did drop the topic in favor of answering the question.

"Basically told me that he'd snitch about me fucking you if he saw us near each other on campus again." Cas rolled his eyes at his family member's dramatics. "If he tells the right people, or even repeats himself often enough, I could get canned," Dean said earnestly in response to Castiel's lack of understanding of the situation.

His words had an intense effect, though not the one he was expecting. "He'll get you fired if he sees us on campus together?" Cas asked. His eyes were narrowed in irritation and something Dean couldn't identify. At Dean's confirmation, Castiel's irritation melted into mischief. "Then we will just have to keep our activities strictly off campus. Right after this."

Castiel closed and locked the heavy wooden office door. Dean felt his heart speed up in anticipation. He wasn't really ready to commit career suicide just yet, but unfortunately there wasn't enough blood for his upstairs brain to operate fully.

Castiel had known Zach was at this university, certainly, but after their last meeting he had thought his cousin would have enough self preservation to avoid him. It was a situation that would need to be rectified. Later. For now, he had to give Dean enough reasons for their tryst to be worth risking his job.

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><p><strong>I did not expect this story to get so much traffic! I'm sorry for the gap in updates, the shortness of this chapter, and its lack of porn. The next one is sure to have some toe-curling hotness though!<strong>

**Seriously, thank you everyone that has reviewed and favorited. It is certainly motivational to realize that my story is so well received. **


	9. Chapter 9

When the knock on the door came, Castiel had just unzipped Dean's jeans and dropped to his knees in an effort to relieve some of his anxieties. "Oh, shit," Dean groaned through clenched teeth.

"Pretend you're not here," Cas said. He made sure his words ghosted across Dean's dick.

"No way in hell am I pretending to be anywhere else." Castiel grinned against the denim covered thigh near his face. Dean ran his fingers through Cas' dark locks which tousled them even more.

"Mr. Winchester?" Both men gave each other identical looks of horror. Adler was outside the door, still knocking.

"Get under the desk," hissed Dean as he tucked himself back into his pants. God, the blue balls were already setting in.

"What?" Castiel eyed the piece of furniture warily. The panel at the front would hide him as long as his cousin stayed on that side of the desk, but if he walked behind it, Cas would be hard to miss.

"Professor Winchester!" Adler's voice had become demanding. His impatience was highlighted by the rattling of the doorknob.

"He can't see us together less than twenty-four hours after he warned me away from you. Please Cas." Dean breathed a sigh of relief when Cas rolled his eyes, but ducked under the desk. He mouthed a thank you that was met with a middle finger, but he'd make it up to him once his job was once again secure.

He smoothed his clothes -triple checked that his fly was done up- and opened the door with a smile. "Hello Mr. Adler. How can I help you today?" The older professor attempted to cross the threshold, but Dean blocked his path with his body.

Adler glanced around the office suspiciously. "I had heard you dismissed your latest class less than a half hour into the lesson. I just came by to make sure you are not feeling ill." Beady eyes continued to flick around the room.

It didn't take long for Dean's hackles to raise at the intrusion. "I am not ill, sir. That class was merely so far ahead it didn't make sense to keep them."

If Adler was offended by his subordinate's tone, he didn't show it. "Ahead? After a week of classes?" His right eyebrow launched toward the top of his forehead.

"They're advanced," Dean replied. "If that's all…?"

Adler stopped the door closing with his foot. Dean felt his temper flash white-hot, but kept his smile in place. This dick could go to hell. "I admit, I had another concern when I made my way over here." Dean remained neutral and silent. After a beat, Adler continued. "I haven't seen Castiel on campus today, apart from this morning of course, so I was worried you hadn't understood me. It occurred to me you may have forfeited your duties in favor of…enjoying his company." Disgust curled his lip at the end of his speech.

"Well, I can tell you I heard you loud and freakin' clear, ok?" That was not neutral or silent, Dean thought to himself. Dammit.

"Listen here, _boy,_" Adler hissed as he stepped into Dean's personal space. Dean simply narrowed his eyes and brought the door closer. There was only space enough for Dean's face between the door and its frame.

They stared at each other for several minutes, anger tipping slowly towards violence. Just before Dean tried to break Adler's foot with the door, another slammed down the hall. "Ah! Mr. Adler, just who I was going to see!" A man with dirty blonde hair wearing a black shirt with the deepest V-cut Dean had ever seen sauntered down the hallway with a shit-eating grin.

Adler smiled back, though his was more a baring of teeth than an expression of welcome. "Aren't I lucky?" he bit out.

"Oh, now Zachy-poo, don't be like that. Pettiness does not become a man of your standing. Come, we have many things to discuss."

Adler visibly balked at the man's arm around his shoulders, but walked with him anyway. "Yeah, fuck you very much," Dean said to the empty air before he banged the door shut.

His blood was still boiling when he turned around and almost ran right into Castiel. "Jesus, Cas!" he shouted. He felt his heart try to jump out of his chest. "Don't just sneak up on people. It's rude!"

"My apologies." Cas took another step toward Dean. He pressed his chest against Dean's, crowding into Dean's comfort zone.

"Dude, back up." Rage turned Dean's voice guttural. He knew his anger was misplaced, but Castiel was really pissing him off. Cas simply pushed against Dean's shoulders. The shove made Dean stumble and fall against his office door. "Cas, not now." A red haze colored Dean's vision.

Still Castiel didn't speak. He waited for Dean to regain his feet before he shoved him again. But Dean was prepared this time. He reached up and grabbed Cas' neck in one hand, his shoulder with the other. "I said stop it," he growled as he rushed them across the room and propelled Castiel against a bookshelf. Cas hit with a dull thud, followed by several books hitting the ground. Dean's hand clenched for a second before he remembered who he was fighting.

"Make me," Cas growled back. Dean had a second to be confused before his grip was broken and he was thrown onto the floor. The breath was knocked out of him briefly.

Castiel smirked in triumph. Dean snarled and kicked out one leg in a sweep that knocked Cas flat on his face. Dean crawled up behind Castiel and quickly grabbed his arms to wrench them behind his back.

Immobilized, Cas couldn't do much more than kick his legs in an ineffective struggle. "Stop it, damn you!" Dean yelled. He grabbed both of Castiel's bony wrists in one hand and used his body to hold him down.

Even with the added weight, Cas refused to stop wriggling around and grunting with the strain. Castiel's ass kept rubbing against Dean's cock, and it didn't care that Dean himself was furious. A low moan fell from Cas' lips when he felt how hard Dean was. "Is this what you want, slut?" Dean asked as he rolled his hips against Castiel's ass.

"Yes, Dean," Cas answered, breathless.

"You want me to hold you down while I fuck you? You'd take me dry, wouldn't you?" Cas turned his head to the side to look up at Dean. He made sure those green eyes were on him when he nodded minutely. Dean shuddered as more blood rushed south. "You are going to kill me."

Castiel lifted his hips as far as he could to grind into Dean's crotch. Dean leaned down to bite Cas' ear roughly as punishment. "Patience, sweetheart," he whispered darkly. He chuckled at Cas' whine.

He kept pressure on Cas' wrists and upper back with one hand to keep him captive. With the other, he reached under their bodies to undo Cas' pants. It was an awkward procedure, but it went quickly enough neither of them cared. Still one handed, Dean pulled Cas' pants and boxers down in a single move. They bunched around Cas' ankles, restricting his movement even more.

Dean shoved two fingers into Castiel's mouth. Cas immediately started sucking and licking the digits, forgoing sensuality for practicality. "Did you tell Adler you were here?" Dean barked. He hooked his fingers in Castiel's mouth, pulling it back roughly. "You want to get me fired?"

Cas shook his head as well as he could and mumbled a "no" around the fingers. "I know you didn't." Dean's voice was soft, soothing, as he withdrew his spit-slick hand. "You want this?"

"I want you to stop talking and fuck me," Castiel groused.

Dean smacked Cas' ass hard enough to leave a mark. "No backtalk." The sting from the slap hadn't faded when he breached Castiel's hole with both fingers. Cas hissed at the rough intrusion, but Dean pushed down on his arms, effectively distracting one pain with another.

When he could refocus, Dean was pumping into him with three fingers easily. Castiel pushed back against Dean's hand, trying to hit his prostate. However, Dean refused to even brush against it; always either stopping short or shifting around it. "Please," he gasped when Dean showed no sign of relenting. Cas could _feel_ Dean's smirk.

There was the sound of a condom wrapper tearing a second before Cas' hole was filled in one quick move. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," he babbled.

Dean felt Castiel's muscles spasm around him as they adjusted. He groaned into Cas' ear, then licked and bit his way down his neck towards his shoulder.

Cas moaned at the rough handling. This was getting to be a dangerous addiction.

They both grunted when Dean started moving, sliding almost completely out before ramming himself back inside. The long thrusts became shorter, setting a forceful rhythm that had Cas howling before too long.

Dean sat back on his heels, dragging Cas with him by his arms to wrap his free hand around Cas' neck. "Quiet," he ordered. He continued to jab into Castiel's warmth, but the new angle had him slamming against Cas' prostate on the up- and downstroke. He could feel Cas start to shake after only a handful of thrusts. "I know you want to touch yourself. I'm hitting that spot, but it's not quite enough, is it? You are desperate to come. It's right there."

Dean watched as Cas' eyes rolled back in his head. "Please, Dean. Please. Give me something. Anything."

Dean increased his speed. "No. I want you to come with my dick in your ass and my hand on your throat. Oh, baby, I want you to paint this floor. And I want you to do it now!" On the last word, Dean squeezed Cas' throat. It didn't cut off his air, but the surprise punched Cas' orgasm out of him.

Thick, sticky come splashed against the floorboards while Cas keened. Castiel clamped down around Dean's dick, causing him to see stars.

Dean let go of Cas' arms as he pulled out. "You ok?" Cas winced and rolled his shoulders, but nodded a yes because sore shoulders were worth the sore ass. "Here, let me." Warm hands massaged Castiel's abused joints, the renewed blood flow giving him the feeling of pins-and-needles.

The sound of faint voices from the hall reminded them that nudity would not help their efforts to remain subtle.

"Why'd you pick a fight with me?" Dean asked once their clothes had been rearranged and he'd returned to rubbing Cas' shoulders.

"You were angry. Sex is a good outlet for anger, when performed with those you trust."

"You trust me?" Dean wasn't sure how to process the admission.

"Indeed. And you trust me." They were sitting so Dean was in his chair and Cas was on the floor in front of him. Castiel leaned back against Dean's legs and Dean moved his hands into Cas' thick hair.

"How do you know?"

"Dean, I was present this morning when I rode you like a triple crown jockey." Castiel laughed when Dean's ears turned red.

Dean couldn't help but grin back.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks again for the reviews everyone! Sorry this is taking so long, I just had to figure out where I wanted the story to go. Please continue letting me know what you think! **


	10. Chapter 10

Dean and Castiel cleaned up Dean's office and made sure there was no evidence to be found. "I had better find Gabriel before he leaves so I can get home," Cas said. They were walking out of the office building and heading toward the faculty parking lot.

"I can drive you, Cas. It's not a problem."

"The offer is appreciated, but I fear the conclusion Gabriel may jump to should he note my continued absence. Also, you still owe me a phone."

Castiel smiled before he turned towards the student lot and ignored Dean's discontented muttering that sounded a lot like 'you talk funny'. Dean kept walking toward the Impala with his gut churning. Ash was weird, but still a hell of a good time. He was also staying in a trailer behind The Roadhouse, the bar owned by Ellen Harvelle-mother of Jo.

They hadn't spoken since the night of the bar fight, and the remembered conversation still left a sour taste in Dean's mouth. He cursed himself on the trip over for being stupid enough to smash a cell phone that wasn't even his so soon after fighting with Ash's landlady's daughter.

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><p>"So good to finally see you, my long lost bro," Gabriel called out when he caught sight of Castiel's wild hair.<p>

"We've gone longer than this without seeing each other, Gabriel."

"Yeah, but usually it was because I was nailing a hot piece, not you. And congrats on sticking it in Professor Panty-dropper, by the way." Gabriel twirled his keys around a finger while he spoke. Castiel was torn between irritation, horror, and fear, but stood frozen in the face of his secret.

Gabriel took pity on his brother and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. His effort gained him a smack and a dirty look, but Castiel no longer looked petrified. "I...You...I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel hedged. Gabriel rolled his eyes hard enough that Castiel worried they would be stuck staring backwards. "How did you know?"

"I'm not an idiot? You suck at lying? You and Hot-for-Student need to work on playing the quiet game while doing it in the shower? Take your pick." The shit-eating grin on Gabriel's face as they climbed into the car made Cas want to strangle him. "Why do you think B showed up when he did? I saw you go into the office, and Zach had already come sniffing around me- asking stupid questions- so when I saw him heading for the door, I called in reinforcements." Gabriel almost hit three students and a fire hydrant on his way to the road, but Castiel barely noticed.

"Balthazar knows?" Images of the kind of extortion their cousin would use this handy piece of blackmail for flashed through Castiel's mind.

"Yes, but I'll be dealing with the payment, not you so don't freak out. I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail." Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

"My apologies. Dean broke my phone and has taken it to a technologically savvy acquaintance to get it repaired."

"Holy shit! If your phone looks anything like my bed, I am feeling really sorry for the techie...and like I need to be the beneficiary on your life insurance policy."

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><p>There was no response when Dean knocked on Ash's trailer. He stared at the plain white door for a long time while determining the chances that Ash's mullet had turned on its owner and actually devoured him in his sleep. "Probably not, but..." Dean glanced around the ground in search of a rock.<p>

"Are you really going to commit a felony to avoid talking to me?" He hoped his flinch wasn't obvious to the petite blonde standing a little behind him. With her arms crossed. Not a good sign.

"It'd be my first offense, so I'd get ten years, max. Probably only have to serve two with this beautiful face of mine." Jo's expression darkened further. Damn, she was scary when she wanted to be. Dean quickly backtracked. "I mean, I'm sorry?" If he apologized, maybe she'd just drop the conversation.

"Look, Winchester. I didn't do or say anything just to piss you off, ok? You're family, but Sam is too. I just thought I could remind him that he still had family since he didn't think he did." She was yelling, but Dean ignored the volume for the content.

"He thought he didn't have any family? What about me?" He could feel his eyebrows pushing together.

"You told him you couldn't trust him. That it was better for you guys to go your separate ways. He didn't want to hurt you anymore, Dean. He doesn't want to hurt you."

Dean felt like Jo had sucker punched him. This was why Sam was something he Did Not Talk About With Anyone. "I know, Jo," he whispered to his shoes. He cleared his throat and started walking across the parking lot. "If we're done braiding each other's hair and having our periods, I need to talk to Ash."

"He's inside, asshole." Jo fell into step beside him and he put his arm around her shoulders. He relaxed minutely when she let it rest there. For now he was forgiven.

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><p>"Yeah, Ash said he could salvage all your data since I didn't fuck up the SIM card, and it'll all be on the brand new phone I got you by tomorrow," Dean said into his phone. "Shit!" He passed his turn.<p>

"Good. Speaking on my brother's phone is vaguely unpleasant. I will need to disinfect my face and hand once we have hung up." A grin pulled up the corners of Dean's mouth at Castiel's tone.

"Make sure you do that. Heads up, I won't be in town for a few days, but the Roadhouse is down the street from you if you don't want to wait for me to pick it up."

"Thank you, Dean. Is everything ok?"

"Oh, yeah, just some family stuff came up. I'm going to take care of it tomorrow, but the drive is killer." His choice of words made Dean wince. He really needed to install a mental filter.

"Well I hope it is resolved quickly. Good luck, Dean."

"Thanks Cas." Dean heard a chuckle before his phone beeped at the disconnected call.

The prison loomed over him, even from across the street where he'd parked his car. There were a few men in orange jumpsuits in a fenced area topped by razor wire, but it seemed otherwise deserted. A blast of cold air hit him when he opened the door to the reception area and raised goosebumps all over his body.

A thick sheet of plexiglass separated him from the bored looking guards behind the desk. "I'm here to see my brother?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question.

"Name?" The guard didn't even look up from his game of Angry Birds.

"Winchester." That got some attention. All four guards looked at him through the barrier, and Dean felt like he was being picked apart and judged.

"This way," another guard said as he jerked his head to his left. Dean followed along, parallel to the counter until a big metal door in front of him swung open on squeaky hinges.

The linoleum floor they walked on was cracked and graying, but seemed clean. Only one of the fluorescent lights flickered. The hallway ended at another metal door, this one opening to reveal the visiting area. "Make yourself at home," the guard said.

"Little heavy on the sarcasm, isn't he?" Someone to Dean's left asked. The voice didn't sound like the one Dean had heard last. That voice had been scratchy, bitter, mean. This one was tired, but not unhappy.

With his heartbeat thundering like a racehorse, Dean turned to face this new voice. The man he saw was nearly six and a half feet tall, which wasn't new. The muscles, clean shaven face, and healthy look were. This was no strung out, dirty, demon-possessed drug addict. "Sammy?"

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><p>"Why didn't you tell him I know about you guys?" Gabriel called out from around a mouth full of peanut butter cups.<p>

"It would only upset him. It is more imperative for you to help me remind Zachariah of why he is to remain out of my business." Castiel tapped his index finger against his lips in thought.

"This is going to be good, I can tell."

"Indeed, Gabriel. We are not children any longer, he cannot make demands on me, or my friends. Clearly the warning I gave him before was not sufficient. I will make sure he does not forget again."

"Wow, bro. You are scary when you're planning world domination."

Castiel didn't hear Gabriel because he was already planning what would hit Zachariah the hardest. He sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that what he needed was salvaged from his broken phone.

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><p><strong>AN: Another thank you for the continued reviews! Keep 'em coming!<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

"It's good to see you, Dean," Sam mumbled into his big brother's shoulder. Dean's arms tightened in response before he stepped back.

"Back at you, Sammy. You look...freaking great, actually."

Sam ducked his head for a second, glancing over his jumpsuit. "You and your boyfriend play prisoner and warden?" The grin on Sam's face at his own joke convinced Dean to play along.

"No, do you and yours?" Dean shoved Sam's shoulder playfully. "Oh, it's not really role-playing if you actually are what you're dressed up as, is it?"

"Oh what an original joke, Dean. I've never heard that one before." Sam shoved Dean back hard enough for Dean to stumble and fall onto one of the hard plastic visitor's chairs. Both brothers blushed at Dean's wince-and-smirk. After an awkward silence, interrupted by the guard's irate 'no touching!', Sam changed the subject. "I didn't know you were coming here today."

"It was a spontaneous decision," Dean said. Sam nodded like he understood, but something was obviously bothering his brother. Any time Dean had ever seen Sam before, it was a scheduled visit. Mostly that was because Sam liked to think he could control what Dean knew about him by controlling the appointment times, but Dean had never once tried to surprise him with a visit. Not that Sam blamed him for that. He had been a mess.

"That's unusual," Sam replied carefully. They stared at each other long enough Sam decided to grab another chair and sit across from his brother so he didn't feel like he was looming.

"Just stuff Jo said. And there's this guy..."

"That dork in your American Wars class?"

"How-? Freaking Jo!" Dean growled and rolled his eyes. Sam watched the theatrics with a critical eye. The true meaning of Dean was always found in the subtext, between the lines. He was made up of unsaid words and misdirected emotion.

"Don't be mad at her. She called me the other day because I knew she was going to see your first class. If she knew it was a thing, she would have told me not to let you know I know." Sam knew his grin was the kind of smug that usually got him a punch in the arm, but Dean had to restrain himself because the guard was looking right at them.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"If I keep seeing him, I could get fired, dude." Dean rested his elbow on his knee and rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows.

"It's been, like, three days, dude. That's not worth your can't wait until he graduates or something?" Even though Dean was nodding, Sam knew it wasn't really in agreement. He decided to wait for Dean's rebuttal. It didn't take long.

"He's just so fucking smart, ok? And his humor is so dry, sometimes I can't tell when he's being serious, but that makes it fun. And he has perfect attendance for all of his college career- he has three degrees already, Sammy- and he just goes with what I want in the sack. No judgement, and let me tell you I have some weird-"

"Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop right there." The slop Sam ate at lunch was threatening to come back on him. No one wanted that.

Dean's smug grin mirrored Sam's from earlier. "Seriously, man. I don't have many people, but he just seems to fit."

"Look man, you have to figure out which one you want to take a chance on. If you guys get found out and you get fired, you'll have 'student-fucker' on your personnel file forever."

"I don't think that's the technical term," Dean sighed. Sam watched Dean deflate. His own body sagged in sympathy for his only family that mattered and who deserved everything.

"I'm just saying...think it through. Reconcile yourself with the consequences. Plan it out, whatever you decide, in order to minimize the damage."

"Time's up," the warden called from the Visitor Room's doors.

"You heading back tonight?" Sam asked, voice small.

"Nah, I think I'm going to stay the night, do a little sight seeing tomorrow. Maybe swing by here to shout obscenities through the fence." Dean tried to sound nonchalant, but his heart constricted a little at the sparkle of hope in Sam's eyes as they hugged good bye. That chubby twelve-year-old was still in there somewhere, Dean just knew it.

* * *

><p>He was already pulling his cell phone out of his pocket when Dean unlocked the door to his motel room. 159 bucks a night apparently got him a dusty comforter with a family of cockroaches for company and nothing but snow on the ancient TV set. Cas' number flashed on the screen as he made the call, but only two and a half rings sounded before he heard the automated voicemail prompt. "Hey Cas, just calling to let you know I'll be out of town until probably the day after tomorrow. More family stuff, but I think it's going to be a good visit. Call me back when you get this. If you want. Bye."<p>

Gabriel's voicemail didn't get a message. Dean thought that might be a little strange.

He spent the rest of his night eating take out from the diner across the street, reading a few Stephen King novels a former guest had left in one of the night stands, and staring at his cell. After the fourth phantom vibration, Dean decided to try calling Cas again. The same voicemail prompt played, this time after three and a half rings. "Hey Cas, I hope everything is ok with you. If you call me back tonight we can try some of that freaky phone sex stuff I've heard about. I'll see you later. Bye."

When Dean was finally able to drift into a fitful doze around 2 am, his phone hadn't yet made a single sound.

* * *

><p>"...we can try some of that freaky phone sex stuff I've heard about. I'll see you later. Bye." Castiel hit delete on Dean's second voicemail, but hesitated when the "are you sure you want to delete this message?" menu popped up.<p>

"You sure about this, bro?" Gabriel asked. Castiel twitched at the unintentional symmetry, but answered his brother with the affirmative. His phone, however, knew he wasn't sure.

Neither Cas nor Gabriel knew what Zachariah's end game was, but he had made an offer too good to refuse. "You could bury him, Cas," Balthazar murmured from Cas' other side.

"I could, but what purpose would it serve? Zachariah and I have a deal. I do not wish to burden Dean with the fallout," Cas replied.

"So it's settled then?" Zachariah nearly shouted from across the table. "You'll end things with Winchester?"

"As long as you fulfill your end of our bargain, I will fulfill mine." Absolute zero could not approach the cold in Castiel's tone. Dean would forgive him, once he could explain himself. This was for the greater good.

Zachariah giggled maniacally as he and Castiel shook hands. Apprehension slithered down Castiel's back, but Dean had obviously been through so much. He deserved some good, and all the better that the black mark be on Castiel's soul instead of Dean's.

"You would have been better off making a deal with the devil himself," Balthazar observed. Gabriel nodded his agreement emphatically. Cas couldn't help but silently agree.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am sorry about the long wait! College started up and I had to really concentrate on my coursework to avoid negative consequences like failing out and having to sell my body under freeway bridges. I have the next couple of chapters planned out and am almost on winter break, so I'll have more time to devote to writing. **

**Thank you to everyone who messaged me and/or reviewed this story. It's nice to know its progress was missed, at least a little.**


	12. Chapter 12

Dean did go sight seeing and yell obscenities through the fence (until one of the guards threatened to shoot him). He also checked his phone every twelve seconds, "In case there's an emergency, Sammy. Jo may need to get a hold of me." Every thirteen seconds, more disappointment hit him. Every fourteen seconds, he'd get angry. Every fifteen seconds he'd construct more and more horrible accidents that would prevent Cas from calling him back.

After Dean's outburst, Sam didn't mention his brother's nervous tics for the rest of the visit. They talked about the college, Dean's apartment, the prison's horrible food, how to sneak in a salad for Sam, what they were going to do once he got out. "I'm better now, Dean," Sam told him after their good bye hug. "Come by whenever you want. Bring your dork. I'd like to meet him."

"I don't think so. You two would team up against me and probably succeed in world domination." He tried to hide the strain the words put on him, but Sam's concerned look let Dean know he'd failed. "It'll be fine, Sammy. Stay out of trouble." The guard at the door was a woman, so Dean threw her his trademark wink with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes at her blush while Dean beamed at his brother in triumph. "See you in a few weeks, Sammy!"

The Impala rumbled in what Dean chose to think was excitement when he finally turned onto the ramp for the highway. He'd go home, shower, eat something, and head over to Castiel's apartment. To make sure he was ok. Make sure Cas knew he wasn't ditching him.

* * *

><p>Either no one was home, or Dean was being ignored. "Answer the door you son of a bitch!" A door creaked behind him which made Dean spin around. A thin man with curly hair and a full beard stood in the doorway of the apartment across the breezeway.<p>

"He's not here," the man said. Nervousness poured off of him in a pungent cloud that smelled a lot like Redbull and vodka. He twisted the ties of a threadbare robe in his fists and just stared at Dean.

"Yeah, thanks buddy. Any idea where he might be?" Dean really wasn't trying to be a dick, but he wasn't the calmest under stress.

Robe guy shook is his head before creeping back into his apartment. "Hoard the toilet paper like it's gold. Because one day, it will be." The door clicked shut before Dean could formulate a response. He decided that was probably best because no appropriate response existed.

The weekend loomed ahead of Dean, but come Monday, at least, he'd see Castiel in class. He ignored the part of him that whispered cruel things, true things. It's going to be fine, he told himself firmly.

* * *

><p>"Hey Cas, just wondering where you are. We haven't talked since Wednesday, so I wanted to make sure everything was ok. Call me back buddy."<p>

"Cas, man, you alright? You need help? I called Gabriel's number, but it said it was disconnected. If something happened, you can tell me. Fully clothed, even. I've got my phone on me."

"Look, if you don't want to see me anymore, that's fine. We had some good times. But come on, man. At least shoot me a text message letting me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot."

"I get it, you don't do repeat performances. Message received. Dick."

"Hey Cas, sorry for my last voicemail. I'm thinking you might actually be in trouble what with this black mark on your attendance record. None of your other professors have heard anything about a family emergency or whatever, but...man, I'm about to put your face on a milk carton."

"Your professor from your 3:30 class e-mailed me to let me know you seemed fine when you were in her class. What the hell?"

Castiel winced at the latest voicemails. This plan was not going as smoothly as he thought it would. He was currently in Zachariah's office to get a status update. "There is a lot of red tape, Castiel. I can only work so fast. I'm using up a number of important favors I've spent years collecting for our little deal." He waved his hand between them. "I know you thought you could just lose your phone for a few days and then go back on your word. That's not how this is going to work." At Cas' glare, Zachariah rolled his eyes and bared his teeth in his standard pseudo-grin.

Cas kept glaring, but kept his mouth shut. He spun his phone in his fingers, absentmindedly playing and stopping the messages. Dean's confidence in Ash's skills with electronics had not been misplaced. Everything Castiel needed was safe on his mobile, backed up on his and Gabriel's computers. He had no illusions about why his cousin hadn't gone to the Disciplinary and Ethics Boards yet. If he lost this evidence, Hell would reign on Earth. "I have assignments to do," he growled before spinning on his heel and stomping out of the office.

Gabriel got to his feet from where he'd been napping against the wall of the hallway. "What'd he say?"

"Nothing worthwhile," Castiel replied. He knew he couldn't keep ignoring Dean, but with Zachariah unable or unwilling to move faster he needed a new plan of action. "I need to see Dean," he told Gabriel.

His brother's eyes widened. "You sure, bro? You know Zach is itching to piss you off and get out of this deal."

"I'm sure. I need you to distract Zachariah should he leave his office. I would rather have this conversation with Dean here. It's public."

"That didn't stop you before, pervert," Gabriel cackled back. Castiel turned red as he walked away from his brother. His laughs followed him until he made it outside.

* * *

><p>"Cas? You ok?"<p>

"Yes Dean, I'm fine," Castiel replied. His gut was churning at the fear flowing through his phone's speaker.

"Dammit, Cas! Where have you been?" Anger is a surface emotion, Cas told himself. Dean knew what was coming and was masking his hurt with anger.

"Just a family thing of my own to deal with. Did you want to meet?" He would be forgiven. Cas knew he'd be forgiven for this eventually.

"Yeah, yeah sure. When?"

"Is now alright? I'm in the history building."

"That's fine. I'll meet you in my office in 5," came Dean's nervous reply.

Castiel replied in the affirmative, though he was already outside Dean's office door. Only three minutes later, Dean came racing around the corner. He slowed down when he saw Cas leaning against the door. Castiel stepped back while Dean unlocked the door. "How was your weekend?" Cas ventured.

Dean entered the office and kept his back to Castiel. "Just say it, Cas." His shoulders slumped like he was waiting for a blow to fall.

Castiel tried to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

"You don't ignore a guy for almost a week straight, avoid places he might be, and call out of the blue with the flimsiest excuse I've ever heard if you want to keep seeing him. So come on Cas, give it to me." Finally, Dean turned to look Castiel in the eye. "I've been dealt worse."

Castiel took a deep breath. "I don't think we should see each other anymore, Professor Winchester."

Dean nodded, walked behind his desk, and began grading the quiz he'd given the week before. "Is that all, Mr. Novak?" Bewildered, Cas nodded. "Then, if you don't mind, I have nearly 200 quizzes to grade by Wednesday and a busy few nights ahead of me."

"Yes, sir," Castiel murmured.

"Close the door behind you please," Dean called after him.

He did as he was bid. The world didn't tip on its axis, he didn't throw up. He was confused by Dean's reaction, had expected a more combative scenario from the passionate man, but figured that perhaps he had overestimated his place. If that was so, then Dean would experience minimal pain at their separation. Once Zachariah pulled the right strings, Dean could have the life he wanted. He had obviously sacrificed a lot from what Cas had read in the police reports. He could sacrifice his chance with Dean for this.

* * *

><p>Castiel's footsteps faded down the hall slowly. Once they disappeared completely, Dean counted to fifty just to be sure he was really gone. Then he put his pen down, laid his arm on the desk, dropped his head into the crook of his elbow, and let go of a single tear.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: As an apology for being away, this chapter is extra special super long! As always, please review! I really love seeing what everyone thinks, even though I can't always ****respond. I read them all and use them to stroke my ego when I get sad. There are only a couple chapters left in this story, so I hope it's been enjoyable so far. **

* * *

><p>In the weeks since the official break up, Dean and Castiel had managed to avoid each other outside of the classroom. If one spied the other in a hallway or restaurant, they would quickly find somewhere in the opposite direction that needed their immediate attention. It wasn't a particularly mature response to the end of a relationship. They both knew that. But the boundaries that usually came with various relationships had been muddied and crossed to the point of obliteration. Neither knew how to react, so they just didn't.<p>

During class, Castiel would write down the answers to the questions being discussed and hand them to Gabriel to answer. Dean would valiantly try to ignore the shorter Novak's hand waving wildly through the air. Usually, it was a futile effort because the other students were in a constant state of hungover or exhaustion. Every. Single. Time. Gabriel would stand up, clear his throat, adjust imaginary spectacles, and read: "Castiel Novak's response to the question, neither dictated nor read beforehand by me." Then, a very insightful and accurate analysis would follow. The closings, added by Gabriel, had a definite theme. Castiel is so smart, so charming, so handsome, so witty, etc.

Both student and professor would turn red from equal parts anger and embarrassment. Gabriel would fail to care.

Just before midterms was the worst because Castiel was conscientious enough about his grades to ignore the inherent awkwardness of each and every study group. After every class, Professor Winchester would conduct a study session in one of the empty classrooms for any student who wanted the extra information. Once it was over- Castiel only listening and absorbing, never actively participating- Dean would call Sam and they would talk.

It wasn't perfect- they had both hung up in anger a few times- but they were definitely getting closer. Dean had even visited three times already. The last time he'd called Jo and invited her along. She drove all night from west Texas in order to get there. "You Winchesters. Stubborn as hell, but you're blood. Family." She grinned at them while tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Family don't end with blood, girl." The warden said from his post at the door. Dean and Sam looked at each other, then looked at Jo.

She started to back away. "Oh no you don't, you sons of bitches! Aah!" Dean threw the tiny blonde over his shoulder and Sam slapped her on the ass hard enough for his own hand to smart. "Fucking shit! That's going to bruise!" Jo yelled. Sam laughed as Dean twirled her around, then laughed harder when she bit Dean on the ass and he dropped her. "Aren't you supposed to control your inmates?" she asked the warden.

"Hmm? Do you have a complaint?"

Jo pretended to be mad for five minutes while the brothers caught up. When Sam mentioned he'd gotten a letter telling him the parole board may be looking in his direction, Jo dropped the act. She asked if there were any specific details yet. Sam answered in the negative. It was all very vague and ephemeral at the time. The letter wasn't even on any kind of official letterhead. "It could just be a joke. I mean, there are a lot of lesser crimes in here who have done more time." He shrugged like he didn't care, but Dean could see a spark of hope.

* * *

><p>"<em>When's<em> your hearing, Sammy?" Dean asked. He was walking towards his office, arms laden with midterms and phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear.

"Get this, they moved it up to tomorrow morning. 8 am." Sam's voice crackled down the line. Dean skidded to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Someone rammed into his back to send nearly two hundred pages flying down the corridor. "Dean? You there?"

Dean glanced around to find the asshole who'd run into him, but no one met his eyes. "Yeah, I'm here. Just spilled all the exams. But seriously, dude, what does that mean? Is it good? It's good, right?" Sam wasn't supposed to see the inside of a courtroom for at least another five years. Two weeks ago, they'd gotten word that a parole hearing was already scheduled for just after Christmas.

"I dunno. I've been working with the state-appointed attorney on what proof I can give that I've been rehabilitated. She implied that I have good connections on the outside to be processed so quickly. Have you talked to anybody?"

"Nah, man. Who do I know? I'm a history professor at a community college. Not really a legal powerhouse." The exams were piled haphazardly back in his arms, but his keys remained on the floor. "Dammit. Hang on."

Bending down caused the papers to rustle ominously, and Dean's shoes meant he couldn't use his freaky monkey-toes to grab the keys. "Let me get those for you, Professor."

Dean flinched as he recognized the voice. Castiel retrieved the keys from next to Dean's feet, but instead of handing them over, he led the way to the office. To avoid another paper avalanche, Dean followed. Neither spoke. They stood awkwardly outside Dean's office until Castiel unlocked the door and opened it before simply turning away and leaving. His trenchcoat billowed behind him as he scurried away. All Dean could do was watch him go. "Thanks," Dean told the empty air.

"That was painful, dude." Sam's voice crackled from the phone still pressed to his ear. Luckily, Dean's office was carpeted because if it wasn't his phone would have shattered as it hit the ground. Sam's laughs could be heard from where the device rested on the floor.

"Shut up, Sam."

"I'm just saying. You're pining, dude." Sam paused. "And it's obvious he is too."

"Is feeling share time over? Because I've got to grade these ridiculously incompetent kids, and it's going to take me days. Days!"

"Fine, you jerk-"

"Bitch."

"-my phone time's been up for about ten minutes anyway. I just couldn't leave with all the 'will they/ won't they'. Too much suspense."

"Alright Sammy, I'll call you tomorrow so you can tell me about the hearing."

They exchanged goodbyes and a few more insults before they hung up. Dean allowed himself to think about Sam getting out tomorrow. Getting to go to a real college. Maybe Berkley. Or Stanford. If he went to Stanford, they could get an apartment together. If his record was expunged, he could be an attorney. Samuel Winchester, esquire. He could meet a nice girl, get married. Forget about his demons.

Obviously none of that was going to happen. At least, not for years. Even if the parole board determined he was no longer a threat to the general public, the chances of him walking out right then and there were slim to none. Processing took time. And the Winchesters were not lucky enough to catch a break like Sam legitimately getting out about ten years early. Prisons were crowded, but not that crowded. Best case scenario, Sam's sentenced is reduced to eight years with a chance of parole after five.

Dean shook his head and scowled at the midterms on the desk in front of him. "It'd be so much easier to just fail all of them."

* * *

><p>"I am surprised you lasted as long as you did, Castiel," Zachariah told him. Castiel merely quirked an eyebrow in response. "Granted, I was surprised after the first day. I know you have no control over your baser urges, and he did seem so hurt." The corners of Zachariah's lips dipped down, but his eyes remained sparkling and triumphant.<p>

Castiel glared. If Zachariah was pleased, then something had gone terribly wrong. "Be direct, cousin. I have no desire to play these games."

"You violated our agreement, _cousin_," Zachariah spat. "I saw you walking with the esteemed Professor Winchester just this afternoon. I have already called the Ethics Board and set up a meeting for tomorrow morning." He grinned like a madman, all teeth. Castiel grabbed the lapels of Zachariah's suit and slammed him against the door of the office. Zachariah's head made a dull noise when it bounced against the wood.

"If you utter a single word against Professor Winchester, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement, _everything_. I'm still a Novak, and I will _bury_ you." Zachariah snarled, but Castiel was already half way down the hall.

* * *

><p>Castiel was still furious when he entered his apartment. He slammed his bedroom door and threw himself into his desk chair.<p>

He fumed for a while, then took out his cell phone. He scrolled through the various files and pictures in an effort to reassure himself. One was of Zachariah picking the lock to Michael's office, another was a screen shot of Zachariah's bank account. There was a video of Zachariah and a British man- Crowley- sipping scotch at a bar. The audio is tinny, but Crowley's "Just hand over the payment and sign the contract," is easily distinguishable. There's a copy of an e-mail between Zachariah and Lucas Diabolo, another cousin he would rather not claim, discussing the movement of "product" from Mexico into California.

All of this was enough to get Zachariah put away for the rest of his life. Originally Castiel had only asked that Zachariah resign from his position with Novak & Associates and to never see him again. Family is family, after all, and blood is thicker than water. Sending any member to federal prison for life would likely be frowned upon.

But Zachariah was trying to weasel his way out of the deal...his need for petty revenge blinded him to future consequences. That made him a loose cannon, and loose cannons were too dangerous. As soon as Zachariah had fulfilled his half of the deal, Castiel was going to do what he must.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Dean could hardly sit still in his eight am class. He didn't even notice Castiel staring at him for the full hour and fifteen minutes. All he could focus on was the knowledge that Sam's future was being decided without his input. The parole board didn't know how out of control Sam had been; didn't know how thin and frail a jolly green giant could look; didn't know that his favorite bedtime story when he was seven was "Where the Wild Things Are". They didn't know Mary Winchester died when Sam had just started eating french fries; well, sucking out their insides. They didn't know John Winchester gave Sammy his first pipe.<p>

Ruby was looking for John when she and Sam met.

When Dean had been looking out for Sam, everything had been good. It was only when Dean went to college and Sam was left with Ruby and the other soulless addicts that things had gone wrong. He was Sam's big brother. His job was to shape Sam's future. How could he trust a bunch of people he didn't know to make the right decision?

As soon as the minute hand touched the little "15" drawn on the clock, he dismissed his class and pulled out his phone. There were no missed calls, but Sam knew not to call between eight and nine-fifteen. At 9:16, Dean decided his brother had completely forgotten to call him, or that the hearing had never happened, or the parole board found out about that time when Sammy was twelve and he accidentally ate a watermelon slice at the grocery store before Dean could pay for it, even though he paid for it anyway!

The phone number for the warden's office was dialed and ringing before Dean could decide against doing it. "Robert Singer, warden speaking. What do you want?"

"Bobby! Where are you manners?"

"I work in a prison, boy, not the Four Seasons. Why are you callin' me?"

"Sam hasn't called me about the parole hearing this morning. I just wanted to know how it went."

"Well, he ain't here, Dean. He got transferred."

Dean felt his face go cold. He probably looked pale and chalky. "What does that mean? Transferred?"

"It means he was taken from one location to another, idjit. Look, I'm sorry but I don't have any more information right now." Bobby hung up before Dean could say anything else. Sammy was transferred? Where? He'd always gotten a call from either Sam or Jo whenever he'd moved housing. When Sam had been sent away this time, the Rehab and Prison was part of a deal; a leniency. Sammy should have gone to a maximum security institution. Had Dean done something to make the judge retract the deal? Was it his fault?

Dean heard his name being called, but it sounded so far away. He turned his head toward the noise to see Castiel standing beside him in the now-empty classroom. "What?" he managed to ask, but his tongue felt heavy and too big.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked again. He was so calm. How could Castiel be so calm when Dean couldn't feel the ground under his feet?

"Sammy's been...transferred. Don't know where. But he didn't call me." Dean's voice sounded very small.

The students for the class after Dean's were beginning to wander in. Their professor shot Dean a confused expression before glancing at his watch. "We're going," Castiel told the other professor. Once Castiel got Dean into the hallway and away from the class' prying eyes, he inspected his professor. Dean was pale and shaky, his eyes glazed over. "Do you need to go home?" Castiel asked gently. At Dean's nod, Castiel looped one of Dean's arms over his shoulder and led him out to the Impala. "Where are your keys?"

"Pocket. But only I drive my baby." Despite his words, Dean handed his keys over to Castiel.

The drive was quiet, but Dean didn't mind. Cas was naturally somber and he wasn't really fit for conversation. His heart eventually returned to a normal speed and rhythm. He even managed to give Castiel semi-coherent directions to his house. All he could think about was where Sam could be. He hadn't visited in a few weeks, and Sam _had_ sounded pretty nervous on the phone. Did he go back to old habits? Every time he'd been in recovery he had relapsed at the first sign of stress. He needed to learn new coping skills, dammit. That's what rehab was fucking for!

The bouncing of the Impala's suspension when Castiel rolled into the driveway brought Dean's attention back to the present. "We're here," Castiel said unnecessarily. He kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes straight ahead. People always left Dean. Maybe it's me, he thought to himself. His mom left, his dad, Lisa, Castiel, even Sammy.

But Cas was right next to him. In his car. At his house. He came back. Dean knew it was stupid to ask again, to look like an idiot again. No one ever considered Dean the smart one though.

"Want to come in?" Dean replied. They stared at each other in tense silence while Dean felt like he was sweating bullets. Castiel hadn't wanted this two months ago, why would he want it now? Castiel licked his lips and Dean finally chickened out. "Haha, just kidding?" It was a weak escape attempt, but that was all he had.

With an eyebrow lifted, Castiel only said, "No you're not" and leaned across the seat to drop a kiss on Dean's lips. He pulled back quickly and got out of the car. A squeak about three seconds later let him know Dean had done the same.

They returned to quiet, refusing to speak even as Dean unlocked his front door and led Castiel deeper into his home. The bedroom was plain-just a bed, a bookcase, and a TV. Castiel glanced around, but his survey was interrupted by Dean slamming him back against the wall and attacking his mouth with teeth and tongue. Castiel responded just as viciously. He grabbed Dean's arms and threw him onto the bed. Dean's eyes were pits of black ringed in green. He bit his lip as Castiel stalked across the carpet towards him.

Once he'd clambered up Dean's body and straddled his waist, however, he brought the kiss away from frantic and wild to soft and slow. Castiel slid his tongue against Dean's, tangled them together. He cupped Dean's face in his hands gently with his thumbs rubbing against Dean's cheekbones. "Cas...?" Dean started to say, but Castiel interrupted by nosing at Dean's chin until he could nuzzle at his throat.

"Let me take care of you?" he whispered into the dip between Dean's collarbones. He felt the professor's adam's apple bob as he swallowed, then the nod.

Castiel removed his clothes quickly to get them out of the way. He peeled the layers off of Dean's body, one at a time. When his chest was bared, Castiel ran his fingertips along shoulders, over Dean's ribs, down his stomach. He kissed and licked and pet as Dean sighed and moaned in turns. He didn't bother to remove the belt from Dean's slacks; simply left it in its loops as he tugged the pants and boxers down.

What he saw was so much better than the washed-out fantasies he'd been creating. Dean was very, very hard, cock already leaking. It jutted out from between muscled thighs that were already shaking. Cas leaned down and slowly, slowly licked along the vein from base to tip. Dean squirmed and gasped, grabbed handfuls of sheets to keep still. Cas stopped his teasing. When he looked up, he met Dean's hungry gaze. "You ok?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded as he ran his hands down each of Dean's legs. He dug his thumbs into a few tense muscles, relishing in the groans of pleasure Dean didn't even try to hide.

Dean moved his knees up when Cas asked. He leaned over and grabbed the lube from the floor beside the bed without Castiel needing to request it. About a quarter of it was used, which cause Castiel's jealous streak to flare for a moment. But he had done this. Pushed Dean towards someone else.

"The lube makes it easier to finger myself when I jack off," Dean offered when Cas had been quiet too long. He allowed relief to show on his face for a moment before he refocused.

"Does it feel like this when you do it yourself?" Cas murmured against Dean's thigh as he slid a finger into Dean's hole. "Or like this?" he says when a second finger slides in with the first.

"No...this is better," Dean moaned. He rocked his hips in time with Castiel's movements. Cas smiled and dropped down to take Dean's cock in his mouth. "Ohhh...fuck!" Dean cried. He thrust forward into Castiel's mouth, and rocked back as Cas' fingers worked him open. The vibrations from Cas humming with pleasure ricocheted up his spine and exploded in his brain.

He was up to three fingers and Castiel was lapping at his dick's head when he felt his balls start to contract. "Ugh...Cas...gonna..." Immediately, Castiel stopped what he was doing. "What? No!" Dean moved back on the fingers still inside him and grabbed at Cas' wild, black mane. But it was too late. He glared down at the blue eyes that were wrinkled in mischievous glee.

He couldn't hold the glare, however, when Castiel started working him up again, shoving his fingers in rougher and almost gagging himself on Dean's cock. He would deep throat and swallow, suck like a vacuum, then lick all over Dean's balls and stretched out rim. "I'll let you come this time," he whispered hoarsely before swirling his tongue around the slit and slamming Dean's dick into his tonsils.

Dean couldn't have been out long, but it took him a while to come down from his orgasm. When he slowly put together where he was and what he was doing, he let a smile stretch across his face. He was laying with his face smushed on Castiel's chest while Cas ran his fingers through Dean's hair. Their legs were tangled and Dean's arm was across Cas' stomach. "You didn't come," Dean mumbled.

"I said I would take care of you," Cas replied. He kept running his fingers along Dean's scalp.

Dean untangled their limbs so he could roll on top of Cas' leaner frame. "Will you fuck me?"

Usually, Castiel's poker face was a lot better. Dean saw surprise, want, and regret run across Castiel's expression in rapid succession. "Do you want me to?"

Instead of answering, Dean readjusted so all he would have to do would be to lean back, and Cas' dick would be inside him. "Please Cas?" Castiel pulled Dean down into a scorching kiss and jerked his hips up.

Both men moaned as Dean worked himself down the full length, then began lifting and dropping his weight. "Fuck, I missed this," Cas growled into Dean's mouth. Dean hummed in agreement. "You look incredible, bouncing on my cock," Castiel continued. He watched the tips of Dean's ears turn red, but Dean didn't stop. He leaned back, away from the kiss, but only to give Castiel a better view. Castiel grabbed Dean's hips to help stabilize him. "You love it too, don't you? Your ass taking all of me. God, you feel so good."

Dean wasn't hard again, but he wished he was. That fucking, filthy mouth always got him. "Want me to lie back so you can really pound into me? I can take it." He could give as good as he got.

Castiel whined high in his throat and let go of Dean's hips like they'd burned him. He leaned up the same time Dean leaned back, so they didn't even separate between positions. Castiel set his weight on one knee, grabbed Dean's legs and spread them, and used the leverage to slam into Dean over and over again.

Dean wailed. Curses, Cas' name, and pleas for more melted together. Both of them were dripping with sweat when Castiel's rhythm began to stutter. "Fuck Cas, come!" Dean hollered. He grabbed a fistful of Castiel's hair and used it to pull his head back so he could bite at his collarbone.

"Dean!" Cas shouted as he came. He ground his hips against Dean's ass and shuddered. Castiel let Dean's legs go and slid out of him carefully. They traded a few lazy kisses before an embarrassed cough sounded from the bedroom door. Dean startled so badly he almost threw Castiel out of the bed. Cas rolled his eyes and climbed under the covers.

"I think I want to go back to prison," Sam grumbled, but there was a smile on his face.


	14. Chapter 14

"What the hell, man?"

"I don't know."

"Seriously! What the hell?!"

"I don't know!"

Dean had managed to throw on a pair of old sweat pants before pulling his brother in for a bear hug. Sam had wrinkled his nose, but Cas thought maybe that was just for show because he was hanging on to Dean just as tightly as Dean was to him. Both brothers stared at the ceiling and blinked a lot once they finally let go, then studiously ignored each other.

"So you're Castiel." It was difficult to decipher Sam's tone. Was he happy? Suspicious? Nauseated? His expression was no help either. He was simply staring at Cas without the barest hint of emotion.

"Indeed. I drove Professor Winchester home after he became concerned as to his brother's whereabouts. I assume you are Sam?"

Faint surprise, followed by angry jealousy flashed across the younger Winchester's face. "Dean let you drive the Impala?" Sam spun to face Dean- who only grinned and shrugged.

"He puts out," he pointed at Castiel.

Cas glanced at Dean and scowled before returning his attention to Sam. "Your disappearance clouded his judgement." Sam managed to look a little sheepish at that.

"Dude, I was just trying to surprise you. Bobby said he'd cover for me if you called."

"Dean," Cas interjected before the professor could get a good head of steam up. "Would you mind handing me my pants? And perhaps allowing me to dress in private?"

Both Sam and Dean turned red, but Dean gathered the scattered clothes and kissed Castiel before leading Sam into the kitchen. "You want anything to drink? Eat? I hear moose need to eat like, sixty pounds of food a day." Dean asked as Sam lowered himself into a chair at the kitchen table. Even though it had been years since they'd been in the same house, Dean couldn't turn off his need to take care of his baby brother.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. "Nah, man. I'm good."

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen. The baggage from their past seemed to pile up and suck out the air, leaving them gasping for something to say. Anything. Dean opened his mouth first, apologies and pleas on the tip of his tongue. He was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He looked at Sam, expression torn, so Sam waved for him to answer. "Hey Ash, buddy, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"That's cool man, but I figured you might want to hear about this. I was cleaning out my hard drive and I came across the files you had me save from your friend a few months ago."

Dean bit his lip to fight the urge to pry. "Ash, that's Cas' business. Not yours and definitely not mine."

"There's an email about Sam and Ruby." Dean's eyes found Sam's. Sam just looked confused and a little concerned at Dean's sudden tension.

"Hey Ash, I'm going to put you on speaker. Sam's here, actually." Dean placed the phone on the table next to Sam while he wandered the kitchen.

"Sam! Dean! Sam and Dean."

"Yeah, hey Ash. What's going on?" Sam asked as he leaned over the mouthpiece.

A hum and a sigh accompanied the sound of clicking that came through the phone's speaker. "Well Dean destroyed a cell phone, then begged me to rescue the data. Of course, Dr. Badass was in, so no problem. A little data transference, decryption, some clean up and boom! Perfection. Forgot to delete them off my drive when I was done, though."

Sam let out a quick laugh. "Ok, that's great. But, what about that is making Dean look like he's about to bolt?"

"There's a lot of shady stuff in the files. Pictures and videos of this old, bald guy in secret meetings and shit. There's one clip of him and Crowley." Dean and Sam exchanged glances, but didn't say anything. "Crowley says something about a contract, then the old guy hands him money. Very fishy, but not my business."

"Are we getting to the point yet, or do I have time to take a leak?" Dean asked.

"The point, Professor-" Ash's voice dripped sarcasm, "is that the interesting stuff is in an email between... Z. Adler and the infamous Lucas Diabolo."

Dean and Sam stared at the phone lying on the table like it might suddenly grow fangs and go straight for the jugular. "You sure?" Sam managed to choke out.

"Positive, my men. Now, the file only had Adler's last response, so I did a little digging."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and muttered "Of course you did." as he plopped into the chair next to his brother.

He could almost hear Ash's non-apologetic shrug. "All of the emails have been deleted, obviously, but nothing on the internet is ever really gone. I reconstructed the exchange." The sound of clicking quickens as Ash pulled up what he needed. "Basically, Diabolo needed to get rid of one of his employees and Adler was tapped to help out. Not sure why or how. Yet."

"The point, Ash," Dean sighed.

"Right. Well the employee he needed to fire was Ruby, but he had to make sure it couldn't be traced back to him. Adler said he knew a guy who could make a deal with anyone. He'd make it look like an accident, no problem."

"So Crowley made a deal with Adler to kill Ruby? How does Sam fit in to this?" Dean asked.

"This is where it's mostly conjecture on my part. John and Crowley had a kind of arrangement, right? Crowley gave him free smack as long as John kept busy when Crowley was doing business?" The boys knew their dad wasn't going to be winning any awards for being an outstanding human being, but hearing it laid out like that always stung them both. "Well, Crowley did some time after John met Diabolo. My guess is Crowley had a personal investment about who took the fall for Murder I, and since John was tougher to find..."

"Yeah, we get it," said Dean with a groan. He looked over at Sam, but Sam just looked shocked. "Thanks for telling us, buddy." He ended the call before Ash could respond. "You ok?" he asked Sam.

Sam shook his head minutely, eyes wide.

"Zachariah was chosen to help because of his status and connections." Dean jumped and pressed a hand to his chest where his heart was trying to gallop through his sternum.

"Dammit Cas. I'm getting you a bell." He sucked in a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and tried to look less guilty than he felt.

Castiel stood impassively in the doorway. His tie was on backwards and his hair stood out from his head in all directions, but he still managed to look stern. "He is not the only member of my family to still speak to Lucas, but he is-was- the only one at the firm. The rest refuse to even acknowledge a distant familial bond with 'el Diabolo'. Such a well-known and industrious criminal related to the only law firm in North America to never lose a case? People would talk." Hunched shoulders and an empty stare into nothing relayed Cas' discomfort and shame. "But Zachariah continues to be a danger, and that cannot be tolerated. He tried to get out of our deal too many times. He's made it clear he will continue to be a threat to you."

"What deal, Cas?" Dean asked. His voice was low; dangerous.

"In exchange for ending our...tryst, and giving him the evidence I have against him, he would work on Sam's case." Dean looked vaguely ill. "I am going to fix it. Trust me."

"Trust you? Did you know what was going on?" Sam whispered. "You have pictures. And video. You aren't stupid. Did you let them frame me for murder?" The whisper devolved into a hiss.

Cas looked up with a hurt expression. "Of course not. I convinced Michael to drop that charge. I told my cousins what I'd seen; showed them where Zachariah had stolen from them. I'm the one who got you out of prison today!" His bright blue eyes teared up as he looked from one brother to the other.

"Well no offense, but you did a pretty piss poor job. I still have felonies on my record! Because of you, my future is ruined! This _can't_ be _fixed_." Sam stormed out of the kitchen toward the guest bedroom. Dean winced as the door slammed.

"Why didn't you turn these in? Zach, Luc, hell, even Crowley would have gone down instead of Sam."

"Listen, if I had turned this information over to the police, my family would have killed me. The reputation of the firm is paramount. There can be no hint of a connection between Lucas and Novak and Associates. I had no choice." Cas reached out to grab Dean's wrist. Dean allowed the contact for only a second before he broke the hold.

He stood up and turned his back on Castiel. "No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one," he spat over his shoulder.

Cas growled and stalked around Dean until they were face- to- face again. "You don't understand. It's complicated."

When Dean looked up, his mouth hung open in shock. He shut it with a snap. "No, actually, it's not, and you know that. Why else would you keep this whole thing a secret, huh, unless you knew that it was wrong? When crap like this comes around, we deal with it. What we don't do is we don't go out and make another deal with the Devil!" he shouted. He could feel the anger boiling in his gut mixing with betrayal and hurt and regret.

Regret danced in Castiel's eyes, but it did nothing to soothe Dean's anger. "It sounds so simple when you say it like that." A humorless chuckle spilled from between his lips. "Where were you when I needed to hear it?"

"I was there. Where were you?" Cas finally looked away, unable to face Dean. "You should have come to me for help, Cas." Dean lifted Castiel's chin to force eye contact.

Cas searched Dean's face for a moment before giving a shallow nod. "Maybe..." There may have been more he wanted to say, but his phone chimed with a text message. He pulled his face away from Dean's hand to glance at the screen. "It's too late now. I can't turn back. I can't." Castiel straightened his spine with newfound resolve. As Dean stepped forward, Cas stepped back with a shaking head.

He headed towards the front door, Dean only a step behind him. "It's not too late. Damn it, Cas, we can fix this!" Dean shouted as Castiel started down the porch steps. He ran behind dark-haired man and made a grab at his coat sleeve.

Castiel turned quickly and pushed Dean backwards. He shrugged out of his trench coat as Dean fell on his ass. "Dean! It's not broken!" He adjusted his shirt collar and strode down the street toward the main road.

Dean watched him go. Again. He crumpled the tan material in his hand as he stood up, screamed all the horrible things he could think of at the tiny figure in the distance. The door slamming shut behind him when he got back inside reminded him that he was no longer alone in his home. Sam was there, even though he'd been absent for too long. It wasn't Castiel's fault Sam had been a drug runner or that he'd driven while fucked up. His charges were valid. Hell, prison forced him clean before Death did.

So Dean shook out the coat and smoothed the wrinkles before hanging it on the peg next to his own jacket.

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter's not as long as the last one, obviously, but! it has only been a handful of days since I updated, so it's a fair trade off, right? <strong>

**Look forward to more Gabriel and Balthazar soon! I miss them.**

**Again, great big "thank you"s to everyone who reviewed. If you have read this far, please feel free to drop a comment to let me know if you like the story. Sorry this chapter is mostly an exposition dump, but occasionally these things need to happen. **


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